Star Wars: Chosen Pillars
by AnibyDesign
Summary: Star wars crossover takes place 5 years before SW: Phantom Menace with the inclusion of elements from LoZ: Twilight Princess and LoZ: Skyward Sword. A lecture from a dedicated Jedi Scholar inspires the Jedi Order to make contact with their very origins, the Hylians. They send Obi-Wan Kenobi, still a Padawan, on a mission by himself to learn more about the Jedi Order's origins.
1. Chapter 1

***Note: I updated the chapter as it needed to flow better with the story. I started chapter 2 and it just wasn't going right. So I made some changes to the chapter. Much of it is the same, but there are some changes. Thank you for reading and I will be sure to get more chapters out soon! :)

Prologue:

It was finally over.

The battle to end the threat of destruction to their freedoms and families had been brutal. It was common knowledge that war behaved that way. Brutality was only the beginning. It's tendrils of death twisting and curling like tentacles searching for food, tearing entire nations limb from limb until nothing remained. When no more could be taken, it's thirst for blood only moved to another victim to quell it's gluttonous appetite. It didn't matter how many lives it ripped from mortality. All it cared for was to fill it's gut with the lives of both the innocent and the guilty.

From every direction, smoke from fires large and small could be seen rising into the air, the blackened plumes curling like dragon's breath. A chill wind bit into the earth, lashing out with ice and fire in it's fangs. Smaller fires were conceived as embers were ripped from their parents by the wind. The fire would cleanse the tainted earth from the evil that had once consumed it, but time would be required for full recovery. Much depended on how and when the earth would heal. The end conclusion would either result in desolation or replenishment.

Despite how quiet the land was, screams from the living echoed through the crisp and bloody air. They wandered among the dead, searching for their loved ones. Hoping to find them alive. It was agonizing to watch loved ones cradle their dead in their arms, weeping and wailing for their loss. The intense emotions filled the air, making it required to have great strength to withstand the crippling effects of mourning.

That was the consequence of war. Despite the victory, in reality, everyone suffers. No one in their right mind would ever consider destruction and death glorious. Only those who sought after power and blood considered it a victory.

Master Herion stood among the dead silently, arms folded close to his chest. It took all his strength and discipline to withstand the wall of pain and suffering that surrounded him. He had to appear strong to those who weren't. Afterall, he was the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order and he needed to give his people courage and assurance. If he showed weakness now, the living would lose all hope and wither away. Numb from the cold, he began to walk to encourage circulation and heat. As he did so, he lingered on the mangled faces of the dead, paying his respects to his fallen comrades. He owed them that much. Afterall, the war had been his fault.

He had been so naive, so young in the Force that he was unable to prevent the war. If he had recognized the warning signs earlier, he could have put an end to the suffering before it came to this. His heart ached, wishing that he could go back in time to correct his mistakes. To save those he loved and cared about. To prevent the darkness that had overshadowed his Order. However, the laws of time wouldn't permit it. Even if he could, it may contain serious consequences.

Inhaling the cold air, he bowed his head reverently as he continued walk through the dead. His steps were careful to avoid disturbing or disrespecting the dead. It was common practice to believe that the spirits of the deceased remained in the mortal world for thirty days before passing through to the other side. Disrespecting a body was just asking for trouble. If done, the spirit of the deceased would be angered and supernatural consequences would ensue. It was best to avoid those confrontations.

He felt himself stop, the cold air taking advantage of him as he caught a glimpse of one particular crumpled body a few feet from him. As he did, a strong gust of chilling air ripped through his robes and bit his bare skin with sharp teeth. He pulled his cloak tighter in an attempt to keep the air from biting him. The spirits of the dead certainly rested here, angry that they were taken before their time. Caution would be needed.

Eyes focused downward, he tip-toed around the bodies before him to reach the one that caught his eye. Slowly, carefully, he knelt beside the mutilated body. Despite the dried blood and gashes, he knew who it was. He lightly grasped the bloodstained braid behind the right ear that indicated the young man's status. A Padawan. Not quite a Knight. Now the dream would never be realized. No wonder why the boy's spirit was angry.

"May you find peace in the Force, young one." He gently closed the eyes of the young man. "Sleep free."

Slowly, he stood up and raised his hand perpendicular to his face, gesturing his respect, and bowed. The harsh wind suddenly stopped, halting all static energy in the area. Peace had been found by the young man's spirit. The dead around the young man must have already come to terms with their deaths as he felt no static energy in the Force when he walked by them. It only made sense. They were Knights and Masters who were disciplined to accept death when it came.

He continued his slow journey among the dead, feeling for those who were angered by their deaths. As he did so, his thoughts turned and began to wander. Was the Force really worth all the trouble? The purpose of the Jedi Order was to bring peace to the learner and to those they served. It would allow them to learn and grow in ways that were unimaginable by generations past. But how could they do so if the Jedi way of life had only seemed to crumble under the weight of the burdens that the galaxy threw at them. It had become very difficult to maintain with so few Jedi.

He looked skyward, his pale blue eyes filling with tears. "Eleniel, I have failed." He carefully sunk to his knees, head in hands. "You were patient with me in all things. Even when I began the Jedi Order, you stood by me." The tears fell freely now. "These years without you has been difficult. You were a voice of reason. Now I've gone and mucked things up."

A gentle wind began to blow, rustling his long, white hair. It was cold, but not vicious like it had previously been. Absentmindedly, he withdrew his lightsaber from his belt. His fingers tingled from the cold metal. The once sleek handle was now pockmarked and scratched from harsh use. It now resembled his battle-damaged katana he had lost earlier in the battle, the blade chipped and broken, severed from it's handle.

He gripped the handle tightly, hot anger, fueled by sadness and fear welled up within him. The lightsaber represented the Jedi Order in it's current state. It was broken and scarred. Gritting his teeth, he stood and threw his lightsaber as far as he could. Breathing heavily, he watched it disappear into the distance. A faint clank of shattering metal soon followed. He knew what he'd done and it brought intense pain and sadness. His lightsaber had become an extension of himself. It had been his life. The symbol of the way of life he had dreamed of ever since he had began to discover the secrets of the Force. Now, the dream lay shattered in ruins, broken and weak.

Suddenly, the hairs on his neck stood up as a large surge of energy engulfed him like a powerful wave. He jerked around, fearing the worst. Had he disturbed the soul of an angry spirit? He slowly pulled his arms closer to his chest, palms open and defensive. The stance he took was one he had found useful for calming angry spirits. His feet were rooted to the ground, stance firm, and breath steady. He felt the warm light of the Force spread throughout his body, preparing him for what might come.

The energy spiked again, but this time he could sense the difference. It wasn't malicious, nor was it angry. Instead, it felt friendly and gentle. Knowing that, he relaxed, but not too much. He didn't want to take any chances.

A voice entered his mind, following the rivers of his thoughts. "Herion."

Startled, he took a couple of steps back. He knew the owner of the voice, but they had been dead for a few years now. It wasn't possible to be hearing them. Once one succumbed to death, they never returned from the paradise their soul enters. No communication with the living.

The voice spoke again, but this time, it didn't come from his thoughts. It came from behind him, but he didn't dare look because he feared that if he did, he'd lose her. "Herion."

"Eleniel." He lowered his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. Seeing her would tear him apart.

Eleniel, his beloved wife, had been ripped from mortality after the birth of their third child, Sash. Her sudden death had thrown him into the crushing depths of despair and sorrow. It had taken years for him to recover and what helped was her spirit. She had stayed by him, even in death, guiding and protecting him. He never saw her, but always felt her near. She'd become his guardian angel.

From what he had seen and understood, when a Jedi passed, their soul would become one with the Force and their distinct presence became indiscernible. However, because Eleniel's connection to the Force was so strong, she had achieved enlightenment, thus allowing her to be discernable. Not just as a separate individual, but as the Force itself. She literally became the Force.

His long, pointed ears twitched when he heard a soft tinkling sound, like grains of sand falling on metal. Despite not wanting to look, he couldn't help himself. He opened one eye and was greeted by golden tendrils beyond mortal comprehension. They darted around him, their golden bodies swirling elegantly as if they were dragons. Eventually, the tendrils began to gather together to form a human figure. Each curve and smooth line was known intimately by him. Why was Eleniel showing herself to him now? What had changed?

Grains of sand began to fall away from the form, revealing Eleniel's luminescent body. Gracefully, she stepped lightly towards him, bare feet barely touching the ground. With each step, she left behind footprints of grass and flowers. Excitedly, she smiled and tilted her head just like she used to in life, teasing him with her golden eyes. It was nice to know that she hadn't lost her personality in death. She stopped a few feet from him and bowed as if she were before royalty. Her long, golden hair spilled over her slender shoulders, falling gently to the ground, revealing a pair of feathery, white wings.

Herion bowed deeply in return and suddenly realized that he was beginning to feel the after effects of fighting for several days without respite. The sudden sharp pain shot through him like an arrow and he nearly collapsed, but he didn't. He looked up and found that Eleniel had steadied him.

When she was sure he could stand, she gently touched the center of his forehead and the pain melted away like snow. "Herion, my dear husband, why do you mourn?" Her voice was gentle and quiet, just like it had always been, but more confident. Her eyes flickered with sympathy.

"The Jedi Order has fallen." He gestured at the dead around him. "I caused this. Because I was weak…..." He hung his head, letting the tears flow freely once more.

An indescribable touch filled his frozen body with warmth as Eleniel took his face in her hands. Tears were in her eyes as well, but there was something else. "You are not weak, Herion. You're only weak if you lose hope." She kissed his cheek lightly. "Have faith. You have yet to see what the Jedi Order will become."

The playful smile returned to her lips. Gracefully, she lifted her silken dress and knelt down, grass and flowers immediately growing at her touch. She gestured for him to sit as well. It was painful, but he obeyed. As soon as he was comfortable, Eleniel lightly touched a flower bud before them that was struggling to grow. With that simple touch, the flower bloomed into a brilliant golden flower.

Her eyes glittered as she turned her gaze once more to him. "The Jedi Order and the Force are like this flower. Young, beautiful, and vibrant. However, it is affected by the seasons." She tapped the flower with her third finger and it immediately withered. The brown petals fell from the flower to the ground as the stem crackled.

Herion raised a brow and he looked at her, his expression saying it all. Pretending to be serious, she also raised her brow, a smile glistening behind her eyes. He frowned, but couldn't hold it for long because Eleniel's face broke into a smile. However, she soon regained her composure and became serious. He watched her pick up a browned petal from the withered flower.

"In winter, all life dies or goes to sleep, but when it wakes, it becomes beautiful once more." She tapped the withered flower and it immediately revived, it's golden petals regaining life once more. "Withering is like taking a step back. Sometimes to make a great leap forward, you have to begin again." She frowned when she noticed a small weed beginning to grow among the vibrant green grass. She fingered it gingerly. "There were weeds beginning to grow within the Jedi Order. Many were discovering a darker side of the Force and were using it for selfish and wicked purposes. Thus the weeds had to be plucked." She forcefully ripped the weed from the grass and clutched it in her hand. Smoke rose from her hand as she incinerated it to dust.

"Ganondorf." Herion shifted uncomfortably, gentle not to disturb his injuries. Her demeanor changed as she naturally sensed his sadness. She took his hand and he enclosed her hand in his. "He came to me one day to tell me of a new discovery he'd found in the Force. Naturally, I was open to it as I was still studying it myself, but when I saw what he was doing." He exhaled sharply, remembering the awful memory. "I observed the experiments he conducted on himself and others. It wasn't good." Her grip tightened. "I felt like the Force turned to sludge each time I got near him. It felt polluted and sick. The more he talked, the more I realized that he was misusing the Force. He craved the power the experiments gave him and he wanted more."

Eleniel looked away sadly, letting her hand drop from his. "That's what power does if used incorrectly." She bit her lip. "I saw what he did. The blood pricking and sacrifices, tuning into evil frequencies echoing through polluted crystals, seeking to destroy those who opposed him, teaching the younglings to fight with anger and without mercy…." She trailed off.

He sat quietly, waiting for her to continue, but she didn't. Her gaze in the Force had been turned elsewhere. She always had a much greater vision in the Force than he did. Most of the time, his vision was blurry and clouded, making things hard to discern. Though, with her counsel, he felt like she had handed him a pair of glasses and could see clearly now. He realized that now he had a better understanding as to why such events had to occurred. The Jedi Order needed simple gardening to pluck the weeds from the flowers. How would he rebuild the Order though?

"Don't focus on the past, my dear. Learn from it and move forward."

He been so deep in thought that her voice startled him. Heart racing from the sudden jolt, he looked up to find Eleniel grinning at him, eyes glowing with glee. Her wings rustled excitedly. She obviously enjoyed startling him. It had been a favorite pastime.

Like a child, she scooted forward on her knees to get closer to him. She took his hand and placed the fourth finger in the middle of her forehead. Then she put her fourth finger of her right hand on his.

"Feel the Force and focus your vision. Open your heart and mind. Let them be clear. Cast off the doubt and fear that have blinded you these many years."

Her words were gentle and he felt his body warm and relax as he emptied his mind. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. In the darkness, he saw the golden river of the Force, flowing gently in whichever way it felt. His soul reached out to touch the water and as he did, the ripples burst into a vision.

The Force rushed through him like a large gust of wind, rapidly flashing images of the future across his vision. It was like watching life flash before his eyes, but the speed didn't matter. His vision had been opened and he saw everything.

As the vision came to a close, he felt the power and energy of the Force withdraw, causing him to nearly collapse with exhaustion. Weakly, he looked at Eleniel and was nearly taken aback by how serious she looked.

"Eleniel, I saw-" She pressed her finger to his lips to cut him off.

She cocked her head and smiled at his confusion. Without a word, she bent to pluck the brilliant golden flower she had caused to bloom minutes earlier and stood. Her luminous, pale fingers gently stroked the delicate petals, eyes distant in thought, but they quickly refocused. She plucked one of the triangular petals and tossed it into the wind. Again, she plucked a second petal and then a third. Her eyes followed them as they were carried away by the wind. Once they were out of sight, she sighed.

"Always remember what you saw in the vision." She paused, waiting for him to acknowledge her words. She raised a brow when he failed to promise. Flustered, he touched his heart and silently promised. She decided to continue after that. "Just as the flower has bloomed, so shall the Jedi Order bloom. The three single petals that you saw carried by the wind represent three who shall guard the Jedi Order against the powers of darkness." She paused, looking into the distance where a marvelous sunset had begun. Her golden eyes sparkled in the golden orange light. "Three will make one. One will fight against the darkness."

Herion felt strengthened by her words and stood to join her. "A Chosen One you mean?" When she didn't answer, he continued. "Ganondorf, upon his death vowed that he would return time and time again. Death will not be the end." He exhaled sharply as he clasped his hands behind his back. "Nothing will stop him from coming back."

She turned her head and he felt her golden eyes pierce his soul. She was asking him to have faith. "He may shake the foundations of the Order, but I assure you that the three chosen will be the Order's first line of defense. Just like Ganondorf, their roles will continue, time and time again. A cycle if you will."

"The Cycle of Three." Herion breathed. At least he knew now that they would not be left helpless. The Order would rebuild itself and it would take time, but like Eleniel said, two steps back grants a giant leap forward. Though, he still had questions. "Why three, Eleniel?"

She laughed. "My dear, I thought you'd never ask." She tossed her long, golden hair over her shoulder and bent down to the ground. Lightly, she touched the ground with her finger. As she drew, grass and flowers grew within the grooves she had drawn. "The Order has three foundations, does it not?"

Three triangles. Three to make one. The pieces were coming together. Herion nodded, immediately knowing where this was going.

Eleniel indicated to the top triangle and the flowers that grew in the grooves turned to a warm red. "The first is Power. The one who holds the Triforce of Power will be a leader of great intelligence and strength. They will naturally understand the purpose of their power and will remain humble as many hardships will come from it. Because of their humility, they will have a great capacity to love. However, power can be manipulated by fear and anger. If they take the wrong path, they will fall."

Herion nodded slowly and waited for Eleniel to continue. She touched the bottom left triangle and the flowers bloomed blue.

"The second is Wisdom. The one who holds this Triforce will be wise beyond their years. They will have a natural ability to comprehend the intricacies of life and will be able to counsel others. Because of their wisdom, they will represent the Jedi politically and be a leader among them. However, because they are wise, they must be careful of pride. Humility will be a welcome friend."

Herion watched as she lightly touched the third triangle, flowers blooming a brilliant green. Her eyes softened and were tinted with sadness. The reaction confused him.

"The third is Courage. The one who holds this triforce will be burdened with much. It will be their sole responsibility to defeat Ganondorf each time he returns. A powerful sword will be forged for them and only they may wield it. Time will be an ally as they will have the gift to manipulate time when needed. Throughout their hardships, they will need to be valiant and courageous. If they fear, they will fail, and the Order will fall."

She paused to draw a circle around the triangles and looked at him, golden eyes asking if he understood what she had explained.

"Three will make one. One will bring balance." Herion said quietly. "And the cycle shall continue for how long?" When Eleniel didn't respond, he realized he knew the answer. He nodded slowly. "I suppose I can answer that myself. However, how will we know who is chosen?"

She stood up, countenance sad. Gaze never leaving his, she began to back away from him. Her wings spread out slowly, the feathers rustling in the calm wind. It was time for her to go. "Each will have the mark of the Triforce. That mark will be passed on to generations to come."

He felt himself stumble forward, not wanting her to go. He loved her so much and the warmth and light of the Force that she carried strengthened him. The despair and darkness, he didn't want to feel that anymore. It made him afraid. His hand reached out to her as she began to flap her wings.

She cocked her head gently, eyes soft, but sad. "I love you, Herion. I always will. Remember that."

"Eleniel!" He called out desperately as she launched upward with great speed. The wind from her wings, knocked him back stumbling. Regaining his balance, he painfully watched her soul dissipate into thousands of golden specks of light. Weakness settled in as he realized that she wasn't going to come back and he fell to his knees, body numb and mind lost in thought.

A crushing sense of loneliness and despair began to filter into his was from the void he had carried with him since her death. He always felt more vulnerable without her connection. She was his strength and foundation. For years, he knew he had a good connection with the Force, but he leaned on her connection most as it was stronger. Now she was gone and he had been forced to learn to develop his connection. A stronger connection than what he started with. No one could do the work for him. He had to do it because he was a Jedi. The struggle would make him strong and he knew that Eleniel, whether he could see her or not, would be there beside him each step of the way.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder, startling him badly. He spun to find out who had touched him, arms and hands positioned to defend. However, he halted when he realized that a young man stood awkwardly with his hands up, eyes widened by fear and confusion.

"Balamaethor, it's just you." He breathed. "You startled me."

Balamaethor laughed slightly and ran a hand through his brown hair. "Herion, are you feeling alright? Normally you would have sensed me coming, but under the current circumstances…." He trailed off as Herion walked past him. "...I suppose not."

"I'm just in thought, Balamaethor." He turned slightly, gazing at the young man that stood behind him. A smile crossed his face as he noticed a golden glow on the man's left hand. It was the Triforce and the very top triangle was glowing. Eleniel's chosen already. "We've got a lot to do, my friend."

Looking at the desolation around them, Balamaethor nodded. A warmer breeze began to blow, rustling Balamaethor's long, braided hair. His green eyes flashed. "Where should we start?"

Herion stopped in his tracks. He smiled. The young man was so good. He'd make a fine Master one day. "We'll need to start with square one of course. Repair our foundations."

Balamaethor looked skyward as if looking for an answer. "I suppose we'll need to re-organize the council….seeing as most of them have….passed on."

Nodding in agreement, Herion took a step closer. "Who would you choose?"

That rattled Balamaethor for sure. His eyes wide with surprise, he couldn't help but stutter a poor response. "Y-you want me to pick?" He ran his hand through his hair again. It was his nervous tick. "Why are you asking me? I'm not a Master in any way shape or form yet. Heck, I just barely passed the trials."

"That's why I want your input. You're part of the remaining generation of Jedi. You'll help shape the future."

Balamaethor bit his lip. "I understand." He paused thoughtfully, obviously still nervous.

Herion couldn't help but smile. He placed a hand on the Knight's shoulder. "How does Master of the Order sound to you?"

A look of confusion. "Are you offering me the job, Master?"

"Yes or no, Balamaethor?" Herion pressed. There was no time to waste.

Clearly flustered now, Balamaethor laughed slightly. "I accept your offer, Master, but you must know that I am not nearly qualified -"

"You will be." Herion interrupted. "No one begins their journey completely qualified. Look at me. I'm still learning how to be Grand Master."

The sun broke through the clouds, beams of pure light filtering out the darkness. It was a new day. A new start.

Balamaethor laughed, but quickly stopped, fearing it was disrespectful. He straightened his worn and bloodstained robes. Another nervous tick, but it helped him regain his composure. "We all are still learning."

Content with the answer, Herion began walking again. Balamaethor joined him at his side, their strides in perfect sync. A comfortable silence fell between them. Neither felt the need to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, Herion noticed that Balamaethor was rubbing his left hand vigorously where the Triforce was, feeling his discomfort. Obviously, the mark hurt. Would it always hurt like that?

"Bal, do we need to have a healer look at your hand?" He inquired, eyes noticing the redness that slowly spread across Balamaethor's hand.

Balamaethor sighed and looked upwards, making it obvious he didn't want to be asked that question. "Master, I'm fine. Just a small injury I acquired in battle. That is all."

Eyebrow raised, Herion deftly grabbed Balamaethor's hand, trying not to hurt him. Bal was stubborn when it came to admitting weakness and injury. While it was annoying and inconvenient to deal with Bal's behavior, it was quite amusing to watch him squirm uncomfortably when the subject came up.

"It looks more like you were branded." He knew what it was, but he wanted to see if Bal was curious about it.

Balamaethor tried to remove his hand from his grip, but gave up when a jolt of pain shot all the way up his arm. He nearly collapsed from the pain, but he managed to remain on his feet. "It's nothing like that. If I had been branded, there would be much more damage done to the skin."

"A tattoo then?" Herion was teasing now and he could help but smile.

"No. Why would I get a tattoo?" He looked away, trying to avoid the confrontation. "It's not a tradition to do so, you know."

"Then what is it?"

Exasperated, Balamaethor finally wrenched his hand from Herion's grip. He rubbed it furiously, hoping to expel the pain. "I don't know, Master. It just appeared a few minutes ago." He paused when Herion laughed. "What? Do you know what this is?"

Stifling more laughter, Herion tried to regain his composure. "I do." He gestured for the hand again. Balamaethor hesitated, but lightly held his left hand out. Herion gently traced the triangles on his skin. "This is a special mark." He looked up and met Bal's confused gaze. "The mark indicates that you bear the Triforce of Power. This means that you will have a major part to play in the Jedi Order, in both it's reorganization and protection."

Balamaethor still looked confused. However, he had stopped trying to rub at his hand. Either the pain had stopped or his confusion made him numb to the pain.

"I don't know everything about the mark, but we'll learn about it together." Herion sighed. He wished he knew more about the Triforce of Power because he wanted to give some counsel to help ease Bal's fears. All he could offer was assurance and faith. "Cherish this mark and honor it."

"I will, Sir." Balamaethor nodded slowly, his voice low, but determined. He trusted Herion with his life and if Herion believed in the mark, then so would he.

He looked down the hill they stood on and saw his friends, Idhrenniel and Veryan, helping a wounded Jedi get to his feets. Idhrenniel sensed his presence and looked up, smiling brightly. She gently removed the Jedi's arm from her shoulder, leaving the burden to Veryan, and waved vigorously. Veryan near fell over with the wounded Jedi from the sudden loss of support. He must have cursed because Idhrenniel turned towards him, hands on her hips, glaring at him. There was no way Veryan could escape her wrath. Accepting fate, he remained stoic and unflinching as she chastised him for his language.

Balamaethor smiled. He was grateful that his friends survived the bloodbath that had ended only hours ago. If he had lost them, he wasn't sure what he'd do. Having them gave him strength to move forward and he was certain he did the same for them. He'd lost his entire family during the final battle and his friends were all he had left. They were his family now.

He saw Idhrenniel rub at her left hand furiously, but was stopped by Veryan. The injured Jedi had been retrieved by two healers, leaving Veryan unencumbered. Veryan had taken Idhrenniel's left hand and began to massage it gently, ignoring his own pain. Both Idhrenniel and Veryan had received the same mark on their hands the same time he had. At least he wouldn't be alone. Whatever these marks truly meant, they would find out together.

Herion took note to Bal's anxious composure and gestured for him to go with his head. Balamaethor smiled, eyes gleaming. Without a word, he ran down the hill and at full speed, tackled Veryan to the ground.

With admiration, Herion watched quietly as Veryan managed to throw Balamaethor off of him and pin him to the ground. Idhrenniel just laughed as the boys wrestled. He couldn't help but smile. The love and camaraderie he felt between the three friends was contagious. Eleniel knew just who to pick to begin the cycle. He closed his eyes and raised his head to the sky, feeling the wind blow around him. There was hope. They would rebuild and become stronger. No matter what came, the Order would be ready. Ganondorf and his followers, the Sith, would not break the Jedi. But if they did, the Jedi Order would come back even stronger. For light always dispels the darkness.

Chapter 1:

Obi-Wan Kenobi toggled back and forth between screens on his data pad absentmindedly. He had tried to keep up with the History and Lore instructor, Master Jaelin Kong, but his attempts were futile. The master's teaching style was too swift for him to keep up with in regards to listening and taking down notes. It was one or the other and at this point, he had decided to go with just listening. He hoped that he would be able to retain enough to be able to jot down in his notes later on and finish the ones that he had already. Most of his notes contained half finished thoughts or sentences, which to say the least, didn't help him with follow up study.

He groaned quietly.

At least he wasn't the only one in the class who felt the same way. His friend, Siri Tachi looked about ready to break her datapad in half. She had, in an attempt to maintain self control, set the pad down and was furiously tapping the stylus on the desk, loudly. Through gritted teeth, she bit her lip anxiously, face scrunching in annoyance. Then, she noticed him out of the corner of her eye staring at her and she turned to acknowledge him. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him before turning back to the lecture.

Obi-Wan slid down in his seat. He wasn't bored. Just frustrated that he couldn't keep up. All he wanted to do was listen and take notes to review later. It became obvious that he wouldn't be able to do so.

Siri continued to tap her stylus on the desk. and it was beginning to annoy him. He was surprised that Master Kong hadn't come over to put a stop to it. Either he was too engrossed in his lesson and didn't hear it or he simply didn't care. Either way, Obi-Wan knew that he wanted it to stop. He reached over to swipe the stylus from Siri when Master Kong's voice grew louder. The Master didn't need to look up to know there was a disturbance. With eyes forward, he slowly withdrew his arm back to his chest. Siri glanced at him, blue eyes twinkling and smirking. All he could do was roll his eyes.

Master Kong stopped pacing and swiped with the tips of his fingers on the podium to remove the images from the vidscreen. He stood silently as he eyed each Padawan in the class.

"I hope that all of you have managed to keep up with the lecture. Much of what we covered today will be utilized in section two of this lecture." His voice was sharp and blunt. Obviously he knew that the class was struggling, but didn't care. No mercy for the unlearned. He stood straight, hands clasped behind his back. "All life has a beginning. An origin, if you will. Some find origins to be dull, but they fail to see the benefits of learning about our past. The past preserves our future."

Siri had stopped her insistent tapping and had rested her head on her arm, half listening. Her shoulder length blond hair spilled over her shoulder and onto the desk. It was obvious that wasn't trying to hide her boredom.

Seeing her in this class reminded Obi-Wan of the time they were on Kegan. They had been captured and imprisoned in a school that taught false information to their captive audience, blatantly ignoring that what they were doing was wrong. Together they had gotten quite a few marks and received punishment because they were 'correcting' and 'lying' to the instructors. The subjects were obviously not true, but the children imprisoned there didn't know that.

The image of Siri sassing the instructor on Kegan flashed in his mind. He smiled at the thought. The memory of that entire mission was important to him. It was there, on Kegan, that he and Siri became friends. Before then, she had bullied the living daylights out of him and she was two years younger than him. She had been one of many bullies that tormented him daily alongside another Padawan named, Bruck Chun. He shivered at the memory.

He turned his attention back to Master Kong's lecture. "I'm not going to repeat myself during this section of the lecture. I want to get through it as we are behind schedule. Please use what we learned in section one and apply it to help you comprehend. Now to begin, I want to focus on the history of our Order. What do we know?"

The entire class was silent. Awkwardly silent, making it obvious that the class either didn't understand the question properly or they simply didn't know. However, the silence didn't sit well with Master Kong.

"Kenobi, you have a brilliant head on your shoulders. Please share with us your thoughts."

Being called on so suddenly startled him as he wasn't expecting to be singled out so abruptly. He slowly stood, memories stirring. Something that his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn had said to him some time ago came to mind. "Master Kong, not to distract from your question, but is it true that the archives were destroyed during the Sith Wars, destroying ancient tomes containing much of our history in the process?"

Silence.

Stunned by the question, Master Kong stopped in his tracks. "It is true, Kenobi. You are the first Padawan to ask that question. The destruction of the archives during the Sith Wars is not commonly focused on. Most commonly, the lectures on the Sith Wars tend to focus on the battles and parties involved and not what was destroyed." He paused in thought. "However, the destruction of the archives ultimately did affect how our Order rebuilt itself." He looked Obi-Wan in the eye. "Where did you hear about this particular event, Kenobi?"

"My Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. I overheard him in a discussion he was having with Madame Nu in the archives. I believe he was looking for some particular information when Madame Nu mentioned it briefly." Master Kong stood silent, arms folded as if he were waiting for him to continue. "I apologize if I lead away from your lecture, Master."

Master Kong shook his head. "No, no. You are actually on point, Kenobi. The loss of our original archives was the foundation of the lecture and I was hoping to begin a discussion in regards to it but since you've gone right to the point, I will forgo the discussion and proceed with the lecture." He walked over to the podium and began sifting through files. "You may be seated, Kenobi."

Obi-Wan slowly sat down, eyes still on Master Kong. The class remained silent as the Master continued to search through his files.

"Over the years, we have been able to recover much of what we lost, but despite our efforts, I believe that the most crucial information has yet to be found." He opened a file from the podium and it immediately flashed up on the vidscreen. "This is an ancient page of text that was found from storage in a library on Bardota. As you know, the Bardota are a people who study the Force to achieve spiritual enlightenment. We do the same, but are more active in utilizing it in the service of others." He touched the screen and enlarged the photo. "Retrieving this sheet was not easy as the Bardotans do not see eye to eye with the Jedi, but after some persuasion, I was able to gain some access."

Obi-Wan leaned forward slightly, hoping to get a better look at the text. He felt his long Padawan braid slide over his shoulder. Despite the aged paper, he was able to make out the text and a peculiar image. The image consisted of three small triangles that together formed one large triangle.

Master Kong walked away from the podium and gestured to the image. "Tell me what you see. Keep in mind that at this time, there is no right or wrong answer as this document is still under research."

A Padawan behind Obi-Wan raised their hand. "Is it a common symbol used in the Order today? If it is, I've never seen it symbol before."

Master Kong nodded as he magnified the symbol. "We still utilize it, but not as frequently as our ancestors did. However, I have found it highly significant in regards to discovering the mysteries of our ancient past. Any thoughts as to where this symbol may be found in the Order today?"

The Padawan behind him may not have seen it, but Obi-Wan knew he had. He was about to raise his hand when Master Kong called out to him. "What insight do you have, Kenobi?"

The fact that Master Kong had called on him before he could raise a finger to speak surprised him. Apparently, he had become a favorite for the moment. "Master, I..." An eyebrow raised, which signaled him to continue. He cleared his throat. "In the Jedi Order's handbook, I've seen that symbol in the section where it discusses the three core pillars of the Jedi Order - The Force, Knowledge, and Self-Discipline."

Master Kong nodded slowly and returned to pacing. "You are absolutely correct, Kenobi. The teachings of the Three Pillars is one of the few places where the Order still utilizes that symbol."

Another hand rose. "Why don't we use it anymore?"

"That is an excellent question. One that deserves more thought." He began to make his way up the aisles. "Symbols are very important to all cultures and represent different ideas and concepts, so why indeed, would we stop using such a symbol?"

He paused when he noticed that Siri wasn't paying attention. Her head had slid into her folded arms on the desk, hiding her face. The Master rolled his eyes and then swiftly tapped her on the head with two fingers. She immediately jolted upright, struggling to hide her surprise. Sheepishly, she looked up at Master Kong and sat up straight.

"So." He continued. "What do we know about the symbol?" No one answered, which made it clear no one knew. This was to be expected as Master Kong hadn't expected anyone to know the answer. "Good, we're all on the same page."

Obi-Wan frowned. For once everyone was on the same page.

"Select Jedi Scholars have spent much time and effort into discovering the meaning of this symbol, but unfortunately, most of the findings become dead ends with no favorable results."

Obi-Wan saw the master's shoulders slump slightly. Master Kong was a member of the committee dedicated to recovering the lost history of the Jedi. He had overheard that detail from Madame Nu as well. The topic was obviously very near to his heart and it was disheartening to see the Master so….resigned. Maybe he was teaching this class hoping that younger minds may have greater insight. It only made sense. Master Yoda often admired the minds of the Younglings he taught. They always saw things that no one else considered.

Master Kong faced the vidscreen, gazing thoughtfully at the enlarged symbol on the ancient text. "However, we feel that we are very close to a breakthrough."

Siri raised her hand, obviously trying to redeem herself for falling asleep in class. "Master, if the symbols match, wouldn't it make sense connect them to the same principles taught in the Three Pillars?"

"Trying to redeem ourselves, are we, Tachi?" Master Kong raised a brow, but didn't chastise further. "However, you are correct. It is logical to connect them to that, but after searching further, I found that theory to be incorrect. Consider this, the language that the text is written in is not Bardotan. Naturally, I couldn't read it so I searched for someone who could. After time, I was able to locate someone who could translate text, but they had only a basic knowledge as I was promptly informed that this was a dead language. Irregardless, we were being offered much more than we had been in years."

He hid the image on the vidscreen and pulled up a page filled with ancient characters, each one categorized based upon their meaning. "The translator took certain characters that he knew and wrote their meanings down. All of this was extracted from the text. While it doesn't look like much, it opened up more possibilities for us."

Obi-wan found himself trying to copy the characters down. They were intricate, but natural. Some of them represented complete thoughts while others, which were simpler indicated a single word. He noticed three, highlighted characters that stood out, but he wasn't sure why. The strangest part about it was he recognized them.

"Master Kong, what are the meanings of the three highlighted characters?"

The master exhaled slowly. "The translator said that any character that was highlighted by a different color indicated something of great importance or value. Definitely something to be paid attention to."

Perplexed, Obi-Wan tapped the end of his stylus on the desk. "If those characters are important, then why did the translator fail to indicate what they meant?"

Master Kong used the Force to suppress his tapping. "Because he was not familiar with those characters, but he felt that they needed to be studied and I trust his instincts."

The class was silent.

"This text is the only firm lead that we have had in a very long time." Master Kong's voice lowered, head bowed. He sounded tired. "But I know that through continuous work and study, we'll find the answers to our missing past." He looked up and resumed his stiff composure, eyes determined. "If any of you have thoughts regarding this particular study or lecture, please come meet with me in my office at any time. I am willing to consider any insight that you may have as part of my study."

***After the lecture, Obi-Wan found himself wandering in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. His thoughts were so jumbled that he needed to meditate. Master Kong's lecture had encouraged curiosity and wonder, so much so that it had left its mark in his mind. Why this particular topic? He'd heard it a thousand times, or at least, the basics, but what was different this time?

Walking through the thick, green foliage, away from the beaten path, he searched for a place to meditate. Closing his eyes, he tuned in to the sounds and feel in his surroundings. Meditating in nature was much easier than it was in his quarters or meditation chambers. He let the sound of rushing water calm his mind, the warmth from the simulated sun warm his skin, and the sound of various birds and animals reminding him that the Force was in all living things. The spot he would choose today would help him reclaim peace and tranquility to his mind.

He opened his eyes and found he had turned towards a large waterfall. The water rushed over the cliffside with great power and elegance. The power was so great, it generated a gentle wind that rustled the leaves on the trees and the grass around it. Mist emerged slowly from the falling water and rose upwards, being carried by the wind. Over the years of his training, he had seen this waterfall from a distance, but hadn't really come this close to it. Afterall, it was the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It would take a long time to see them all.

Slowly, he made his way over to the waterfall, being careful to not disturb his surroundings. He didn't want anyone to know he was there. Before climbing, he paused to look upward, taking in the grandeur of the waterfall. Nature was truly beautiful. He managed to find a way to climb up the side of the waterfall and climb safely behind it. Behind the waterfall, there was a large cave. After his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found a dry spot at the back of the cave and sat down.

He felt satisfied with the spot. It was quiet, secluded, and in nature. Everything he needed to clear his cluttered mind. Taking a deep breath, he rested his head against the cool wall behind him.

Tuning in with the sound of the rushing water, he cleared his mind, removing the cumbersome thoughts. Just like the water, he envisioned them being washed away, never to return again. New thoughts would slowly flow into his mind from a clear source. Next, he turned his attention inward to relax his body. He focused on his breathing, slowly inhaling through the nose and exhaling through the mouth. As he did so, he felt his tense muscles grow warm and relax. Before he knew it, he felt entirely at peace and open to whatever the Force needed to reveal to him.

Just like the river, the Force began to flow through him at a steady pace. It warmed his whole body, filling his veins with light. After a time, he noticed that amidst the darkness of his closed eyes, a gentle, yellow light began to appear. Eventually it became more discernible, gently evolving into a river. It's flow became that of a gentle river - a river of light. The light brightened beyond normal comprehension, drawing his spirit in. He'd lost track of when he realized he could no longer hear the sounds around him. However, he had noticed that the river of light had a gentle sound. The sound it made was a soft, tinkling noise, like the sound of tiny bits of metal or sand being dropped from a small distance onto a hard surface.

This was not the first time he'd seen this river. It always seemed to manifest itself whenever he meditated, but it's appearances were few and far inbetween. He couldn't command it to appear by will. It just….appeared. Still, no matter how many times he saw it, it sparked curiosity. He wanted to know what it was, but in meditation and research, the answer had managed to evade him. Maybe it was something that he needed to speak with Master Yoda about.

He felt a surge in the Force and next thing he knew, he was standing by the bank of the river of light. The first time this happened, he found a spot that he favored and sat there, marveling the beauty of the river. Since then, he'd been able to somehow...warp to that spot. Even now, he had moved without realizing it. The sensation had eventually become normal to him and he just learned to accept it.

Absorbed in thought and amazement, he didn't realize that his hand was reaching for the water. A sharp warning from the Force jolted him back to reality, or whatever this was in his meditation. As always, it was confusing. It was just a river and shouldn't be able to hurt him. Or was it possible that the water was made of a dangerous property? That was something he really wanted to find out.

The urge to touch the water came again and he reached out once again. His fingers nearly touched it, but was stopped when another hand gently grabbed his wrist. That was odd. Bewildered, he looked up only find himself staring inches away from the face of a beautiful woman with long golden hair. Her eyes were a luminescent gold and seemed to be endless in their depths. They twinkled as he continued to awkwardly stare at her. Her lips drew upwards and smiled sweetly. There was no anger, but she was definitely firm and it became obvious that she didn't want him touching the river.

Eventually, she released her grip on his wrist and slowly came to sit beside him on the bank of the river. Now that she had moved, Obi-Wan had a better chance to look at her closely. Her skin was ethereal and glowed with a soft light. Her very long, golden hair draped her shoulders and spilled down her back, coming to rest on the ground beside her in neat piles. In addition to that, flowers and grass had suddenly grown in the area where she sat. Most of the time, he couldn't make out any sort of foliage in this place. Just the river of light shining through the darkness.

He heard a soft rustling sound and turned his gaze slightly to barely catch a pair of pure white feathery wings folding behind her. Was she an angel? At that moment, she cocked her head, golden hair spilling over her shoulders. The smile still lit her face. It was almost as if she had heard his thoughts.

"Do you come here often, Young One?" Her voice was like silk. It was gentle and curious, but was filled with authority. Her eyes twinkled when he realized that his jaw had dropped.

"S-sometimes, Ma'am." He stuttered and ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I don't see this place too often, but when I do see it, I try to stay as long as I can."

She nodded and turned her gaze back to the river of light. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes." He found himself staring at the river again, watching it's currents ebb and flow, unimpeded by rocks or trees. Maybe she knew what this place was. Just by feeling along, he had been able to determine that it was a place connected with the Force, but he wasn't sure how. "What is this place?"

The woman laughed quietly and sighed. She flipped long strands of hair away from her face and pulled her knees to her chest, making her look like a young child. "What do you think it is, young one?" Make that a very wise and knowledgeable child.

The question hadn't been dodged, but was expertly turned to him to give his opinion first. He looked at her, eyebrow raised, but simply complied. "Based off of my feelings alone, I can tell this place is very special. It radiates in the Force like a giant sun, but despite my efforts to find out, I haven't been able to determine what it is."

The warm smile crossed woman's lips once more. It was wider this time and seemed to have taken on a more playful feel. He watched as she unfolded her legs and moved closer to the bank of the river of light. Her hand hesitated above the flowing light. "It takes many years to build up strength of spirit to touch this river. Touch it early and you'll shrivel and die." Obi-Wan realized that she had just answered a question he had a few minutes ago. "Though, you are correct about this place being connected to the Force, Young One. For lack of a better description, this river is the Force. The Force here manifests itself as a river. There are very few who are able to see the Force in this form. They can feel it, but cannot see it."

"So...this is similar to the Force veins that are described by the Masters?" He asked quietly, staring in awe at the river. So this is what the Force looked like.

"You have great insight, Young One." The woman lightly touched the river with her fourth finger. Ripples began to expand and grow, but then mixed back in with the normal flow of light. "There are veins and arteries like this all throughout the universe. The smaller veins alter their courses from time to time as they grow, but arteries like this one remain constant. They follow the same path that they carved out from the beginning of life itself."

He wasn't sure how to respond to her. In fact, it took him some time to realize that he had been silent for a time. His gaze had been captured by the wonder and beauty of the river. The concept that the Force could be seen baffled him. All of his life, he had been taught that the Force could not be seen. Only felt.

After a while, he was able to collect himself and turned to face her. She sat in silence, legs crossed, hands folded in a peculiar fashion, and eyes closed. Her wings rustled from time to time as if they reacted to her emotions and thoughts.

"You mentioned that only few can see Force veins?" He fiddled with his long Padawan braid as he asked. He wasn't sure what to do or say to this mysterious woman. It was already odd enough that she was here in this place with him. Normally he was alone.

Unmoving and eyes still closed, she shifted her hands into another odd position. "Those who have a strong connection to the Force are only able to see these veins. Considering this, it shows what great capacities you possess."

"Capacities?"

"Yes." She opened her golden eyes and looked into his directly. He felt as if she were examining his soul. "You are a special young man. Don't ever forget who you are and what you stand for. Do not doubt yourself. There will be those who will try to put you down, but don't let them dampen your spirit. If you do, you'll never reach your full potential."

That sure cleared his questions up. He exhaled sharply, making it obvious that he was frustrated. "With all do respect, but what you just told me made no sense whatsoever. What do you mean by my full potential?"

She cocked her head and smiled mischievously. Her eyes twinkled like stars. "If I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise." She winked. "That is for you to discover, but I suppose that I will tell you this. Do not be afraid to step into the unknown. That is how all life grows."

Smile still on her lips, she stood up slowly. Her wings rustled anxiously with energy. Was she leaving? Apparently she was because she started to walk away from him. He felt his body lurch forward to try and stop her. "Wait!" He called. She stopped and turned to face him, the small smile still on her face. "Who are you?"

For the first time, he saw her spirit drop, noticeable by her lowered wings. Her golden eyes dimmed slightly. "I am Eleniel, a Sentinel of the Force." Her head bowed slowly as if her statement made her sad. "That is all you need know at this time. However, next time you find yourself here, don't touch the vein and don't look at it too long. Because I am able to do so doesn't mean you can. Disobeying my counsel will have it's repercussions."

Confusion was beginning to become a common feeling he felt here. "Repercussions? What do you mean?"

Her posture straightened, face becoming stern. "You will not be able to return to reality."

Not waiting for him to respond, she turned away from him once more, her ground-length hair trailing behind her. Grass and flowers grew as she walked, leaving evenly spaced patches of life behind her like a trail of breadcrumbs. Despite the darkness around them, it didn't dim the light she gave off. Her light continued to shine brightly. Then, just as quickly as she appeared, her body and presence in the Force disappeared.

Right at that moment, he felt his knees give out from beneath him and he fell to the ground. His head smacked against the hard ground, affecting his vision and hearing. Ears ringing, he attempted to get back up, but because he was so disoriented, he fell back to the ground. It was almost like he had no control over his limbs and strength. Had it left him when she left?

He shook his head, hoping to clear his vision, but it remained blurry. Again, he tried to raise up on his hands, but his strength was gone. No matter how much determination he had, his body felt heavy and weak. Getting back up was beginning to look impossible. Suddenly, a sharp, cold chill surged up his legs and down his arms, freezing his blood as it moved. His whole body eventually began to grow cold and there was no escaping it.

In the distance, he heard a menacing laugh, deep and evil. Eventually, it grew louder as if it were getting closer to him. Hearing this, he frantically tried to get to his feet, but all he could manage was getting to his knees. The weight from his weak body made his arms shake, but he remained upright.

Suddenly, the cold gnawed at him as if it had sharp teeth. "Die, Jedi." The voice whispered.

Obi-Wan turned his head in the direction of the voice, but nothing was there. A tingling sensation filled his veins as his heart rate quickened from anxiety.

"Die Jedi." The voice repeated, but louder. It was taunting him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the voice out. "NO!"

Responding to the voice only made it worse. "DIE JEDI!" The voice screamed in his ear this time.

Obi-Wan wanted to cover his ears to shut out the screaming voice, but he didn't have enough strength to do so. Weakness had settled in his bones like sand, trying to force him to the ground. All he could manage was barely staying on his hands and knees. The voice continued to taunt and scream until it just became white noise. Eventually, the screaming stopped. Slowly, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He only saw the river, flowing along peacefully. Sighing with relief, he once again attempted to climb to his feet, feeling strength slowly return.

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed him by the scalp and painfully ripped him into the air. He screamed in pain as the pressure from the hand surged through his body. Struggling only made the pain worse. Desperate, he reached his hands up to pry the grip that the mysterious hand had on his scalp. As soon as he touched skin, a surge of darkness shot through his body, freezing his blood further. That halted his escape attempt.

"It is useless to fight me, boy." It was the same voice that screamed at him earlier. "You are too weak."

Ignoring the voice, Obi-Wan drew a small reserve of strength and once more attempted to free himself from his attacker. However, before he could even reach his arm up again, he was thrown to the ground. His back cracked against the hard ground, leaving him winded and gasping for air. The attacker still held him hard, his grip threatening to crush his skull. Streaks of pain shot through his body like lightning, striping the rest of his strength from him. He moaned in pain as he struggled to move.

Still gripping his skull, the attacker knelt beside him on one knee and wrenched his head back, threatening to break it. He screamed in pain, almost bending under the intensity. The attacker leaned his head towards Obi-Wan's face, the smell of his rancid breath filling his nostrils.

"Weakness is failure, boy." The attacker taunted. "And it has no mercy."

Before Obi-Wan could make another attempt to escape, his attacker shoved his head into the ground, the pain ringing through his ears. Desperate, he attempted to roll away, but the man grabbed him by the neck and forced down. The air expelled from his lungs once again like a cannon being shot. He raised his hands to pry his attacker's fingers from his throat, but the lack of air sapped his strength. Still, he had to try. Despite his efforts, his attacker's grip only tightened, expelling the last of the air in his lungs.

"The weak consume the strong." The voice growled, leaning down into Obi-Wan's face again. "You're just fodder."

Obi-Wan's lungs burned from the lack of air. Weakly, he opened his eyes and saw a very tanned man with glowing red eyes and hair. Who was this man? The man had such power and strength that was fueled by the Darkside of the Force.

As a last attempt, he gathered his remaining strength and despite his lack of oxygen, he gripped one of the man's fingers and ripped down hard. Bone gave way, cracking and ripping through his attacker's skin and yet, the man still gripped his throat. Bewildered, Obi-Wan tried once more with another finger, but despite breaking another finger, the man still refused to release his grip. He felt his arm fall to the ground limply, his body weak from the lack of air. Why hadn't it worked? Usually ripping someone's finger off forced the attacker to release their grip.

His vision blurred, but he could still see the man's glowing red eyes. Such hatred emanated from them. How could someone feel so much hate and let it fuel them? He'd felt anger and hate before, but he'd been able to control it through much discipline. It was painfully apparent that this man's hatred fueled his power in the Force and possibly helped prevent him from feeling pain. This was quite the disadvantage to Obi-Wan as he couldn't breathe and was now doomed to suffer a slow and painful death.

He felt his body give out, heart slowing. Was this what it felt like to die? All he knew was that he didn't want to die, but he had no more strength to fight back. What else could he do? Slowly, he closed his eyes and listened to his heart. It beat sluggishly, weakly trying to keep him alive, but he knew it wouldn't be long till death embraced him.

The man laughed triumphantly. He knew that Obi-Wan's strength was giving out. "That's right, boy! Accept your fate!"

The man's laugh continued, but it was faint. Obi-Wan felt his body grow numb and heavy as his heartbeat continued to slow until finally, it stopped. Almost immediately, he felt pulled towards a bright light as if he had gone into lightspeed and then….nothing.

Seeing the life leave Obi-Wan's body, the man released his grip and stood. He smiled and cackled victoriously. "And so the darkness consumes the light."

Suddenly, a streak of bright light seared across the darkness like a burn and struck the man square in the chest, knocking him off balance and away from Obi-Wan's body. The man quickly regained his composure, the flow of hatred pouring from his eyes like a waterfall.

"I should have known you'd come." He growled, fists clenched. Red light seemed to evaporate from his body like blood in the hot sun. "But you're too late!"

A ball of white light burst a few feet from the man, revealing a human form. Glittering light particles falling like snow as the features of a woman defined themselves. "One can never be too late, Old Friend?"

The man chuckled as he casually removed his dark cape, making it quite obvious that he was ready to start a fight. "Friend? Eleniel, do you honestly believe that we were friends?"

Eleniel's golden eyes saddened as she gingerly stepped forward, life springing forth with each careful step. "At one time, Ganon, but the man I once knew has been consumed by the darkness." She paused, her eyes glancing over Obi-Wan's body. "The man I see before me now seeks revenge, power, and death."

Ganon laughed once more, tightening the straps on his gloves as he did so. "Revenge? My dear, Eleniel. You are so naive. Despite your enlightenment, you have failed to see the full power of the Darkside. You cannot stop me." He growled menacingly as if he were a feral wild animal.

Cautiously, Eleniel slowly knelt beside Obi-Wan's body and lightly touched the middle of his forehead with her third finger. "Light always pierces the darkness, Ganon. You never understood that."

Ganon frowned, eyebrows knit with anger. "You never understood my discoveries, talents, and gifts. Obviously, you felt threatened by my power and because of that, YOU who exiled me!" He clenched his hands, squeezing the leather between his fingers and palms. "For millenniums, we have fought, but this time, I will win. I will snuff you and all the Jedi out! YOU'RE ALL DEAD!"

He rushed forward, drawing a wicked blade, double-edged and skewed with hate, tainted with the blood of the lives he had taken in millenniums past. His scream pierced the air with such intensity that even the most courageous would cower. However, Eleniel was not fazed. She couldn't be. In life, she had made her decision and in death, she had continued as a physical embodiment as the Force. A Sentinel. A Guardian of the Ways of the Force. She looked up from her work, eyes flickering with sadness. As if time didn't affect her, she stroked Obi-Wan's hair and stood.

She gazed at Obi-Wan and smiled sadly. "Live, young one. I'll restore your strength shortly. More will be explained at a later time. For now, rest and recover."

Standing resolute, she summoned balls of crackling light to her hands, shielding Obi-Wan from Ganon's rage. As she inhaled, she summoned another ball of white light that completely engulfed Obi-Wan. Slowly, his form began to fade and eventually disappeared completely. For now, sending Obi-Wan back to reality would protect him. The Sacred Realm was no longer safe. Reality would be a barrier to prevent the demon from breaking out for a time. Time that would be needed for those chosen by the Cycle to be trained.

A tear rolled down her cheek as Ganon continued to rush at her, seeming as if he were in slow motion. His anger couldn't be quenched and she knew it never would be. Ganon had been consumed by the Dark Side, body and soul. All the light inside him was gone. The man she had once known, gone. Slain by the lust and greed of power. That's all he had wanted and it had been his downfall.

Rubbing her hands together, the balls of light that engulfed her hands merged together to create a beautiful, diamond hilt glistened with the light of the Force, channeling it through the entire blade. She readied herself, preparing for Ganon's attack. Once more, she looked back to where Obi-Wan had once been. He was safe….for now.

Obi-Wan awoke suddenly, gasping for breath, pain pulsing through his skull. Shrill alarms and bright lights overwhelmed his senses, creating a sense of panic and confusion. His throat felt raw and dry as the sudden abundance of air rushed into his still burning lungs. With each gasp, his throat felt like it had been ripped apart and the intensity of it caused him to cough uncontrollably. It was almost as if a bucket of gravel had been shoved down his throat and now his body was desperately trying to expel it.

Still gasping, he tried to open his eyes. They felt swollen and heavy, preventing him from being able to effectively clear his vision. All he saw were blurred images of color and intense bright light. Then a sudden flash of intense white light flashed across his vision and he cringed, closing his eyes in pain. He tried to turn his head away, but numbly felt pressure on his temples as if someone was trying to hold his head still. The intense light continued to flash, but after a few more flashes, it stopped.

Another string of coughs followed, causing his chest to burn. A muffled, but gentle voice spoke to him and tried to move his head in the direction of the voice. That only caused a sharp jolt of pain to shoot down his spine, making him cringe in pain. Once more, he felt pressure on the sides of his head, keeping his head in place. The voice continued to speak, but he still couldn't understand. It was like his ears had been completely plugged by water. His senses finally cleared when warm pressure was placed on his chest, dispelling the intense pain.

Groggy and confused, he slowly opened his eyes once more, vision clearer this time. There were two faces that looked down at him, both of them appearing concerned and relieved. He wasn't sure what to think of it, but one of them looked familiar. Through his coughs, he strained to focus on the face he recognized.

"Where...?" He managed to croak out between coughs. His throat felt like it had been through a durasheet shredder.

The face he recognized was a bearded man with long brown hair. "You're in the Healing Halls, Obi-Wan." A large hand was placed on his forehead. "You seem to have had an accident of….sorts."

Sorts? What did the man mean by that?

"What happened, Obi-Wan?" The man's question had been gently asked. However, it was in hope that Obi-Wan knew what had happened. In all honestly, he wasn't positive. What he did know was that his body hurt from head to toe.

The other being shushed the man promptly. "Don't press him, Qui-Gon. I don't think he is completely clear minded yet. Asking him won't do you any good."

That's right. The man's face he knew was Qui-Gon Jinn, his Master. A sudden and violent shiver raced up his spine, making him realize how cold he was. His whole body tingled from being numb as the blood rushed through his veins, once more. Lacing the tingling sensation, was the cold. His body began to tremble from the chill and the other being swiftly grabbed a blanket from a cabinet off to the side and draped it across him. Despite the welcomed warmth, his body still shivered, the cold emanating from his bones.

Qui-Gon glanced at the other being, eyebrow raised. "He's coming around, Vokara."

Vokara? Master Vokara Chi? Obi-Wan also knew her. She was the head Temple Healer.

Frowning, Vokara closed the cabinet she had rushed to and put a hand on her hip, head tails twitching with irritation. "Not fast enough. I don't want him to be strained. His body already has been. All I ask is for you to be patient." Chastising him didn't do any good. Qui-Gon just simply smiled defiantly. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

"You do have to admit that you're just as curious as I am. The incident was unnatural. There's no evidence as to point us to the reason behind his sudden death."

Sudden death? Did he die? Obi-Wan blinked slowly, still feeling confused. He inhaled slowly, the air burning his lungs like a raging forest fire. What had happened to him? Exhaling, a few fuzzy memories began to filter in as his awareness became clear. He had been meditating when he had been transported….mentally or physically, for lack of better description, to the Force river he had seen a few times. There had been a woman named Eleniel and the man who had attacked him. Eleniel was kind to him, but the man had tried to….kill him. Realization hit him in the face like a brick. He had been dead!

He looked up at Qui-Gon, who still was arguing with Master Chi, and reached out to touch his arm. "Master…."

That definitely stopped them from arguing. Qui-Gon paused and looked at Vokara for a moment. She nodded and walked out into the hall. "I'm here, Obi-Wan. How do you feel?"

"Cold." A shiver ran down his spine as he said that.

Qui-Gon smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "You're in good hands, Obi-Wan." He paused to pull a chair closer to Obi-Wan's bedside and sat down. "Do you feel strong enough to tell me what happened?"

His body continued to shiver even though he was covered in several layers of blankets. "I….was just….meditating-" A long string of coughs interrupted him.

Qui-Gon leaned in and put his hand on his forehead, worry showing in his eyes. Beads of sweat had begun to form on Obi-Wan's skin as a fever began to rapidly rise. "Obi-Wan, don't strain yourself."

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan coughed sharply. "I saw….a Sentinel."

Brows furrowed, Qui-Gon slowly removed his hand. "A sentinel?" Curiosity set in. "What do you mean by that?"

Obi-Wan's eyes began to grow distant. He was too weak to talk. Vokara was right, as usual. "She looked….like...an angel…." His breathing slowed as consciousness slowly slipped from him.

When Obi-Wan failed to continue, Qui-Gon stood up quickly, knocking his chair over in the process, and stared at the monitors. Jagged lines bounced up and down, indicating a heartbeat. The beats were slow, but steady. Sighing, he righted his chair and sat down, putting his face in his hand. He was exhausted from the intensity of Obi-Wan's incident. One doesn't simply just die without reason.

He had been in a meeting with the council when he felt Obi-Wan's presence in the Force suddenly vanish like stars in a black hole. Master Yoda had sensed it as well and allowed him to bolt out of the chamber. Usually after his instructional courses, Obi-Wan would go to the Room of a Thousand Fountains to meditate. He had on occasion, watched him wander through the foliage trying to find the perfect spot. Lately, Obi-Wan had chosen the caves behind some of the larger waterfalls. Even though he couldn't sense Obi-Wan anymore, he at least had an idea of where he would be.

On his way to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, he'd recruited a couple of Obi-Wan's friends to help him look. Turned out that they had felt the disturbance as well. The search didn't take too long as Padawan Bant Eerin, had seen him head towards a specific waterfall earlier. Sure enough, behind the very large waterfall, Obi-Wan lay motionless. Even from a distance, he could see that Obi-Wan was also covered in cuts and bruises. He'd rushed to Obi-Wan's side and immediately began checking his vitals, but found no heartbeat or breath. Obi-Wan was gone.

However, if he had learned one thing from Obi-Wan, it was to be persistent and he wasn't about to give up on him. He picked up Obi-Wan, slung him over his shoulder, and then lept down the side of the waterfall as quickly as he could. Next thing he knew, he was in the Healing Halls watching Vokara and her assistants scrambling to revive Obi-Wan. It was painful to see Obi-Wan hooked up to so many machines, breath mask donning his nose and mouth. As time went by with no results, he began to feel more anxious and worried. At one point, Vokara just stopped. She had looked at him with compassion, her sharp features softening. As she reached to turn the life support off, Obi-Wan suddenly started breathing again.

"Master Jinn?" A voice asked, startling him.

He looked up slowly to avoid showing that he had been startled. "Jaelin, it's good to see you."

Master Jaelin Kong bowed respectfully as he entered the room. "I heard about your Padawan and wanted to check on him." He paused to glance at Obi-Wan, concern clearly showing. It was an odd sight. The man was usually quite stoic. "Will he be alright?"

He leaned forward in his chair and felt Obi-Wan's forehead once more. The fever had risen tremendously to the point where it almost burned to touch the skin. "Vokara is cautiously optimistic, but she expects a full recovery."

Nodding, Jaelin used the Force to pull another chair to a choice spot across the room by a window. "He seemed well for the duration of my class, but obviously that isn't the case. What happened?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "I'm not certain. Obi-Wan was only conscious for a short time and was too weak to really provide any major details. I'll gather more once he has the strength. The circumstances are odd. When I found him, he looked like he had been in a fight of sorts, which after investigation, there were no reports indicating that he had been in one." He paused, thinking about what Obi-Wan had said before he had passed out. Thoughtfully, he rubbed his chin. "However, he did mention something that I wasn't quite sure what to make of. He claims to have seen a Sentinel."

Jaelin's eyes widened with shock and began to sparkle with excitement. "A Sentinel, you say?" The Force rippled as he scooted his chair closer to Qui-Gon. "Those haven't been spoken of for thousands of years. I myself have spent a large portion of my time exploring the ancient fairy tales we tell our Younglings. Specifically, the lesser known ones. Many grow up believing that they are just stories. Not fact."

"The stories we tell Younglings actually depict descriptions of these Sentinels?" Qui-Gon had been slightly taken aback by the sudden excitement. However, it really shouldn't have surprised him. Jaelin was a man of history and knowledge. It was also well known that the man loved to explore fairy tales and lore to find actual fact and truth.

"Very vaguely. They aren't a main character, so to say, but certainly have a large role to play." Jaelin's smile had grown wider. "Our ancient Jedi ancestors would often tell stories that sounded like fairy tales, but were in actuality, true stories. It is a method that has worked well to teach Younglings, but that's not the point. The point is the fact that we have historical documentation, actual accounts of Jedi seeing these Sentinels. What few we have, state that they or it, is a supposed entity that literally is the Force. They have also been described as an Angel of Light."

"Angels?" Qui-Gon leaned forward, his interest peaked. "That is how Obi-Wan described this Sentinel he saw. How many accounts are documented?"

Jaelin sighed, reaching for his datapad in his side pack. It was obvious that he was distraught about it. "Four that I know of. I've combed the Archives and other sources for more, but that's all I've come up with. Three out of the four, document encounters that take place while the subject is at death's door. The fourth is quite different." He swiped through his files on his datapad rapidly, but finally stopped when he found what he wanted. Standing up, he handed the datapad to Qui-Gon. "This account was given by a Jedi by the name of Idhrenniel. According to carbon dating, the document could be more than a million years old. The fact that it is still in prime condition is astounding."

Qui-Gon quietly skimmed through the digitalized document. He couldn't read it, but the symbols were fascinating. They had a certain power to them. "Did you have a translator?"

"Of course, Qui-Gon. Turns out that the language that it is written in is a dead language. No one speaks or writes it anymore. It was pure luck that I was able to locate someone who could partially translate it."

"Partially? That's reassuring." Qui-Gon looked up from the datapad. "Do you know what language it is?"

Jaelin frowned, eyes darkening. "The young man that translated didn't even know the name. He only referred to it as the Language of the Ancients. Quite generic if you ask me." He paused in thought, fingers tapping the arm of his chair. "He wasn't even a Jedi. I had to outsource, but I'm just grateful that we were able to get a partial translation." His hand absentmindedly rubbed his temple. "Returning to the topic of interest. Idhrenniel's account states that a Sentinel visited during her meditation before her Knighting Ceremony. She too describes the Sentinel as an angel, but with slight variation. Instead of using the title, Angel of Light, she uses Angel of the Force."

Qui-Gon handed the datapad back to Jaelin and glanced at Obi-Wan, watching his chest rise and fall. It was reassuring. "Does Idhrenniel's account give more detail beyond that?"

Jaelin handled the datapad in his hands gently as if he held the actual document. "It does, but it's cryptic. Most of it wasn't able to be translated, but we were able to extract some information." He reached into his tunic and put on some reading glasses. His vision must have gotten worse over the years. Staring at books and screens could have contributed to it. He quietly read through his notes on his datapad. "A name, or at least I assume it is a name, was mentioned frequently. Ah, here it is. The name mentioned was Eleniel." A smile crossed his face. "Quite beautiful." He shook his head. "Other subjects included details regarding a 'Chosen One.' The translation is very spotty, but from what I can identify, it varies from our version of the prophecy. It has made me question the authenticity of our version, but I can't prove it right or wrong if I don't have more evidence."

"What about your sources on Bardota?"

Jaelin sighed, shoulders slumped. "I've found very little from the Bardotans, partially because of their distaste for Jedi. The only major find I've had is a single page containing a triangular symbol. We discussed that symbol in my lectures today. I was hoping that my students would have some insight." He looked at Obi-Wan, a small smile on his face. "Your Padawan made a very good observation. He connected it with the Three Pillars that serve as the very foundation for the Order. I hadn't even taken that into consideration."

Qui-Gon smiled, eyes on Obi-Wan, making sure that he was still breathing. "His abilities in observation and comprehension is astounding."

The conversation had evolved into an active group discussion, enough so that it left an impression. He knew that during the Sith Wars, the Order lost much of it's knowledge and had to piece what they had together into what the Order is today. Talking with Jaelin always did this to him. It made him question certain aspects of the Order. What was true and what wasn't? What had been added or removed? He'd always felt like something was missing from the Order, but couldn't seem to pinpoint it. In previous conversations, Jaelin had mentioned that he often felt the same, thus resulting in his intensive research. There was definitely more to the Force and the Order than what was known.

Obi-Wan suddenly coughed, making them both jump. Intense worry filtered into the air as both masters stared at the monitors, focusing on Obi-Wan's vitals. As another wave of coughs began, Vokara casually walked in unnoticed as both masters were focused on Obi-Wan's vitals.

"Has he woken up since I left?" Vokara asked gently. A smile spread as she watched them both jump. Startling them had been her intention.

"No. He's been quiet actually up until now." Qui-Gon inhaled sharply, holding back a poor response to Vokara's surprise.

She paused, to look at the monitors, her serious demeanor returning. "At least he's not dead." Her response was blunt, but she didn't care. Turning slightly, she noticed Jaelin in the corner, shoving his datapad into his side pack. A smile crossed her lips. "I didn't expect to see you here, Jaelin."

Jaelin bowed his head, still obviously flustered by her sudden entrance. "I felt the urge to come check on young Kenobi. It's proven to be fruitful."

Exasperated, she turned to face him, hands on her hips. "You came here to conduct a study on young Kenobi? If you ask me, that is quite insensitive, but I wouldn't have expected anything less from you."

He held his hands up defensively. "All out of compassion and concern, I assure you. It was….just unexpected results." Vokara raised a brow, indicating that he had just dug a hole for himself. "Our conversation evolved from one of sympathy and concern to one of study. The study being what Obi-Wan had said before his consciousness faded. He claims to have seen an Angel."

"Angels? Really, Jaelin. You're studying angels?" Latex gloves smacked against her skin. She watched as Jaelin cringed. It was satisfying to see the reaction. "I should hope you know that Angels are of myth and fairy tale."

That struck a nerve. Eye twitching slightly, Jaelin frowned. "I should hope that you know that I have proven many of our so called 'fairy tales' as actual fact and event." Jaelin stood, arms folded and jaw clenched. "You've heard the tales of the Sentinel?"

"Of course, Jaelin." She didn't look at him, keeping her focus on what she was doing. "Everyone has heard it, but it's just a story that we tell Younglings. It's not fact."

Exasperated, Jaelin took a few steps closer to Vokara, hands white from clenching. "Haven't you ever wondered about where the stories come from? You have to at least admit that you have."

Vokara sighed as she placed her hand on Obi-Wan's forehead, feeling for his temperature. "I have, but I've come to accept reality. They are just stories. The fact that you analyze stories and pull theories out of thin air is beyond me. As of now, your Sentinel theory has no foundation to stand on. You've only found four accounts-" Jaelin opened his mouth to speak, but she quieted him by pointing her finger sharply at him and raising her voice slightly. "Yes, I've read your essays, but the accounts in discussion provide very little to support your theory."

Qui-Gon sat quietly in his chair, arms folded tightly against his check. He didn't want to get involved in their argument, but even if he did try to leave he felt certain that he would only be roped back in. For now, it would be best to wait it out.

Jaelin stiffly swung his side pack over his arm, eyes resolute. "I will find evidence, I assure you. I always do." He walked past Vokara, head held high. "Now, if you'll excuse me. Qui-Gon, thank you for your time."

Once Jaelin was gone, Vokara visibly relaxed, her head tails less twitchy. However, tension still hung in the hair like a thick fog that refused to filter out. Qui-Gon remained quiet as Vokara worked on Obi-Wan. She had selected a few crystals to channel the Force through Obi-Wan's body to speed up the healing process safely. Before she started the process, she rubbed her hands together, generating heat. Then, gingerly, she touched each crystal. The Force that flowed through the tips of her fingers caused the crystals to glow.

Qui-Gon watched for a moment, but felt restless. He needed to go for a walk. Despite how worried he was about Obi-Wan, he knew that he needed to take some time away from him. He stood and walked towards the door. Vokara noticed and bowed her head.

"I'll keep you updated on his progress, Qui-Gon." She smiled gently, knowing he was still concerned.

He smiled back and bowed. Then without a word, walked out into the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

As night fell upon Coruscant, the city began to swarm like a hive of angry bees, buzzing to and fro gleefully from shops and pubs that dotted the streets and levels of the city-planet. Signs flashed brilliantly, beckoning to entice anyone who passed by their precipices. Laughter mingled with the horns and screeches of constant traffic surging through the planet's lifeblood. Some of the space lanes were free flowing, while others were packed tight like plaque in an artery, testing the tempers of many of the traveling sentients. Some had already lost their patience and were screaming profanities at other drivers.

Despite the chaos of the city-planet, the Jedi Temple remained a place of peace and solace. It stood stoically amidst the tall skyscrapers, it's ancient walls firm and strong. Harsh winds of chaos and confusion couldn't penetrate them for it was a hallowed and sacred place. A place dedicated to knowledge, service, and enlightenment. Those who studied within it's walls would come to an understanding of the Force and even, themselves. Each worked hard to overcome their weaknesses, striving for perfection even though true perfection could not be obtained. There were those who found it best for them to remain within the walls, training the younger generations while others found themselves desiring to see and do much more. To serve those who couldn't help themselves and be peacekeepers throughout the reaches of the galaxy.

Those who accepted missions could be away from their sacred home for months and even years at a time, but eventually would return to the familiar faces of their fellow Jedi. Reunions were often joyful, Masters and Padawans alike reuniting with their friends. However, some reunions were sorrowful. The loss of a friend, Master, or even Padawan would cause the walls of the temple to tremble with sadness. Death was an occupational hazard they all took each time they left the temple, but many struggled to let those who passed on rest within the Force, their sadness ripping them apart. The Jedi Order was, in a manner of speaking, a didn't meet the normal standards to be considered a 'family' as each had been taken from their own families to serve a greater purpose. By gathering together in one sacred location, speaking to each other as if they were brothers and sisters was enough for them to consider themselves family.

The lights in the halls had dimmed, gently flickering a calming blue light as the night drew deep. Many used this time of night to meditate, to ponder the day's events. Most however, used this time to rest and to ease their weariness from training and study. Even this late at night, there were many who sought refuge in the Meditation Halls. Masters sat quietly, crossed-legged on raised dais throughout the hall, seeking answers to questions and clarity among confusion. Despite the peace, some could not find rest, their thoughts consumed by the worries and questions that plagued their minds, making it impossible meditate.

Qui-Gon Jinn was one of the restless this night. His several attempts to meditate had failed and had resorted to wandering the quiet halls of the temple. As he walked, his thoughts churned with worry and concern for his Padawan. The oddity of the events surrounding Obi-Wan's mysterious death and revival didn't add up. There were no signs of a struggle and yet, Obi-Wan bore blatant evidence that he'd been in a fight and had obviously lost. Yet, every given account had stated that Obi-Wan wasn't involved in any confrontations and everyone who had seen him said that he had just gone to the waterfall to meditate. Even the security cameras confirmed those accounts. So why had Obi-Wan sustained such injuries and died? None of it made any sense.

He paused, realizing that his feet had taken him back to the scene of the incident. The cool, misty air rushed to meet him, seeking to ease his tense nerves. Despite the calming effect that nature possessed, it couldn't help him. He was too concerned for his Padawan. Inhaling the fresh air, he slowly made his way down the cobbled path, snaking through the lush foliage. The sound of rushing water from the thousands of waterfalls and streams echoed in his ears, pulsing in time with his blood. He hesitated when he came to the spot where Obi-Wan had deviated from the beaten path, his gaze focused on the barely visible waterfall where he had been found.

What _had_ happened?

As he thought, a faint, tinkling sound subtly made it's way into his subconscious, freeing him from the endless loop he had thought himself into. His senses tingled as a massive surge of Force energy entered the room, nearly overpowering him. The blood within him warmed with light as the tinkling sound increased with intensity. Whatever it was, it certainly got his attention. Closing his eyes, he tried to pinpoint the source, but found it difficult to do so. The Force was so dense around him, he couldn't find a specific direction. Instead, he slowly made his way up the cobbled path upon instinct, boots silent against the smooth rock.

When he turned the bend, he stopped in his tracks, unsure of what to make of what stood before him. A few meters away, a beautiful woman with long, golden hair stood in the center of the path, her gaze focused in the distance. Her eyes flashed with golden light as the refracted light from the water and mist illuminated her skin. A long, but simple white gown adorned her slender body, shimmering with particles of light. Something behind her back rustled like a bird ruffling their feathers. Oddly enough, they were feathers. The woman had wings!

The first thought that came to mind was that she was an angel. Many had described angels as beings of indescribable beauty. Several of those accounts were from spacers who had encountered them on the moons of Iego, but the natural inhabitants weren't angels. They were beautiful beings with luminescent skin and rainbow-tinted wings, but they were _not_ angels. However, it made him wonder if the being he saw before him now was the same angel Obi-Wan claimed he saw.

Reverently, he stepped closer and as he did, the woman's gaze turned to meet him. A smile adorned her petite countenance, golden eyes twinkling. Her head bowed respectfully, golden hair spilling over her slender shoulders. He returned the gesture as he drew close. The smile on her face widened as if she knew he wasn't sure what to make of her. She had a child-like quality, but retained elegance and poise. Her head cocked playfully, waiting for him to say something, but he found himself unable to.

When he finally had the courage to speak, he was distracted by something hard tapping at his shin. He tore his gaze from the woman and looked down to find Master Yoda standing at his feet, leaning heavily on his gimer stick. "Alright, are you, Qui-Gon? Staring at empty space, you were."

He shook his head and looked back to where the woman had been. She was gone. Vanished into thin air. His mouth nearly fell open in surprise, but he managed to control it. "I-I'm fine, Master. My focus was on my thoughts from the day."

The expression on the ancient master's face didn't change. "Convinced, I am not, Qui-Gon. Know you, I do."

Qui-Gon almost felt relieved that Yoda hadn't pressed him further about 'staring into the distance.' He sighed. "Obi-Wan's condition concerns me."

The old master grunted in agreement. "Mysterious, the circumstances are, but fear not for young Obi-Wan. Sense, I do that fine, he will be."

"His current status doesn't confirm that, Master. He _had_ died and now lays practically on his deathbed even after revival." Qui-Gon found himself retorting and was immediately appalled. He hadn't meant for an angered response, but the words just fell from his lips before he could stop them.

Yoda's expression fell to disappointment. "Lack of faith, have you in your Padawan when survived much, he has?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes I do, but this incident wasn't." Qui-Gon sliced the air with his hand like a knife. "Obi-Wan _died_ from unnatural causes, Master. Something that can't be explained."

"Explained, all things can be, but find the answer first, you must." Yoda jabbed the tip of his gimer stick into the soft ground. "Impossible, nothing is."

Qui-Gon nodded reluctantly in agreement as a soft signal came from his comlink on his belt. Slowly, he withdrew the comlink and activated it, igniting a hologram. "Qui-Gon, it is very late. You should be asleep."

"Vokara, you know as well as I that considering the circumstances of the day, I wouldn't be asleep." Qui-Gon frowned. "How is Obi-Wan?"

Her hologram figure set down a chart she'd been working on. "Stable for the time being, but that's all I can say. His vitals have fluctuated over the hours, as has his fever. I've only just managed to keep them consistent."

Qui-Gon let out a slow exhale, releasing some of the stress and concern that had built up inside. Much of it was still there, but at least he had some decent news. "Has he woken up?"

Vokara stood, straightening her robes. "Off and on. He's awake at the moment, but I can't say for how long." She began placing various healing crystals back into their containers. "Best come down now."

"I'll be there shortly." With that, Qui-Gon cut the communication. He put the comlink back on his belt and glanced at Master Yoda. "With all due respect, Master, I must go." He bowed respectfully.

Master Yoda returned the gesture.

In a swirl of robes, he took off running. His heart raced in time with his pounding feet, the sound of his steps muffled by the carpeting. He dashed past masters who still wandered the halls at this time, catching them off guard briefly. They all knew why he ran. An explanation would not necessary.

His pace slowed as he reached the doors of the Med Bay and slowly walked in as the doors faintly hissed open. Nearly breathless with blood pounding in his ears, he quietly navigated his way through the Healing Halls. The lights had faded to a pale pink light, creating an atmosphere that encouraged rest, peace, and recovery. The carpeting was also softer, silencing all noise. It was as if the whole area had been sound-proofed.

When he finally reached Obi-Wan's room, he hesitated, preparing himself for what he might see. While Vokara had assured him that Obi-Wan was stable, he still wasn't sure what to expect. Would he look worse than what he had previously or better? Was he still attached to miles of machinery monitoring his vitals? It was more likely for the latter. He took a breath and activated the panel. The doors opened quietly, the smell of antiseptic wafting over him like a wave.

He stepped in, observing that the equipment and furniture had been moved. Obi-Wan's bed was situated closer to a broad window, its blinds drawn. The life support monitors and other medical equipment had been neatly moved, some closer to Obi-Wan while others further away. Trays and other smaller equipment had either been put on shelves or moved closer to the wall.

His eyes came to rest on Obi-Wan. He lay quietly, eyes closed. An air mask donned his nose and mouth along with wires and tubes connecting him to life support. It was heartbreaking to see him like that, but at least he was alive. Quietly, he walked over to Obi-Wan's bedside and touched the boy's hand. Still cold, but warmer than it had been before.

Exhaling, he sat down in the chair beside the bed. Obi-Wan must have slipped back into unconsciousness before he got there, but that didn't matter. He would be there when Obi-Wan regained consciousness again. Leaning forward, balancing his elbows on his knees, he suddenly realized how tired he was. The adrenaline rush and worry of the incident had made him too tense to realize that he needed rest. Maybe he could afford a power nap. As sleep nearly overtook him, he was startled awake by a gentle touch on his shoulder. He looked up to find Vokara standing at his side. She smiled and bowed her head slightly.

"Finally taking my advice and getting some rest, I see." Her lekku twitched slightly. She wasn't annoyed, but he could tell she was just as tired as he was. It had been quite a day.

He stretched his legs and rubbed a hand over his face. "Only just."

She smirked, turning her attention to the stats on the machinery. "He was awake before you got here, but he must have passed out." Her hand lightly touched Obi-Wan's forehead. "I had to step out to attend to another patient for a moment." She paused, gently stroking the boy's head. "His voice was nearly a whisper, but at least he was talking."

"What did he say?"

"He kept talking about that angel or 'Sentinel' he claimed to have seen." She exhaled as she walked over to the desk and sat down. It was apparent that she was exhausted. Her fingers lightly played with the healing crystals on the desk. "He even managed to get a hold of some paper and sketched out a rough drawing." She lightly raised the chart on the desk and waved it, indicating it was where Obi-Wan had gotten the paper.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "He had enough strength to do that?"

"Apparently." She rested her elbow on the desk, hand cupping her cheek. "He's quite adamant about it, but it is not uncommon for one so close to death to claim that they have seen a bright light or angel before they pass on. Studies have been conducted on sentients moments before death, but none of them have proven any conclusive fact in that regard."

"Vokara….."

She groaned. "I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. Whenever I come in contact with Jaelin, he just…."

"I understand. Believe me, I do." He leaned back in his chair. "After listening to him, it raises many questions."

With cheek still resting in her hand, she turned to look at him. "Regarding his sanity?"

"No. Questions regarding aspects of the Order." He glanced at Obi-Wan. "What if the Order really is missing teachings and histories that by knowing could affect us today? What would we be like?"

Slowly, Vokara stood, smoothing her robes. Dark circles had formed underneath her eyes. "I'm too tired to even consider that, Qui-Gon." She picked up a piece of durasheet and handed it to Qui-Gon. "For now, be glad that we are who we are today. I'll let you watch him as I still have others to check on. I've been in and out of this room more times than I would prefer to count. Let me know if anything changes." With that, she walked out of the room, doors shutting silently behind her.

Qui-Gon stared at the sheet he held in his hands. Obi-Wan's drawing was rough and sketchy, but he could easily tell that it portrayed a young woman with wings and long hair that passed beyond her feet. The resemblance to the woman he had seen in the Room of a Thousand Fountains was uncanny. Master Yoda had made it obvious that he himself hadn't seen her, but Qui-Gon _knew_ that he himself had. Maybe Jaelin really was telling the truth about Sentinels or Angels being actual truth.

Beside him, Obi-Wan stirred, his breath full of pain. Qui-Gon placed the drawing on the side table and slid his chair closer. Obi-Wan's eyes slowly opened, groggy and unfocused. "Master?"

Hearing his Padawan's voice was glorious. It made his heart leap for joy. "Yes, Obi-Wan?"

Sluggishly, Obi-Wan turned to look at him. Even though his body was weak, his blue eyes were oddly vibrant. "I need to speak ...with you."

"About the Sentinel?" Qui-Gon remembered that Vokara had mentioned that it was all Obi-Wan had wanted to talk about. He watched Obi-Wan nod with great effort. "Tell me what happened."

Obi-Wan leaned his head back, eyes closed. The Force shimmered with intense pain. "I was meditating…..when it happened. It felt….like I traveled."

"Traveled where, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon placed his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, hoping to help keep him focused.

"I don't know." Obi-Wan drew a shuddering breath. "A place….where the Force flows. It looked like golden sand." When he opened his eyes, he raised his hand upward as if reaching for something. "The light….it drew me in and the Force…..it was...so strong. That's where I saw her."

Qui-Gon felt his brows furrow in thought. "The Sentinel?" Obi-Wan nodded weakly. "Did she have a name, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan's raised his eyes upward as if searching for the answer. "Eleniel."

Slowly, Qui-Gon relaxed in his chair thoughtfully. Jaelin had mentioned the name in one of the translated texts he had. Were they one and the same? "Did she speak with you?"

A weak nod. "She explained….how the Force flows….in the universe. She also said-" A sudden attack of coughs interrupted him, preventing him from finishing.

Qui-Gon lurched forward as Obi-Wan gasped for air between coughs. He summoned a healing crystal to his hand and gently pressed it to Obi-Wan's chest, channelling the Force through it. While he wasn't a healer, he at least knew the basics. Slowly, Obi-Wan's coughing eased, but the effect it had was detrimental. The fit had stolen much of his remaining strength, which would make it difficult for Qui-Gon to get more information out of him.

"Do you feel you can continue, Obi-Wan?" Even though Qui-Gon wanted to know more, he didn't want to pressure the boy if he didn't have strength, but wanted to give him the choice.

Obi-Wan nodded weakly, eyes dimmed, but determined to continue. "When….she left….a dark presence…..attacked me…."

"Who attacked you?"

"Don't know…" Obi-Wan shook his head, his breath raspy. "Couldn't….get away….."

"What did this presence look like?" Qui-Gon carefully asked, hoping to keep Obi-Wan calm enough to gather his strength. "Or did you only sense it?"

His eyes began to lose focus, glazing over slowly. "Hair….looked like….fire….Dark skin…..red gem in...center of….forehead…" Obi-Wan's voice trailed off as his consciousness began to fade.

Qui-Gon placed a large hand on Obi-Wan's forehead. Beads of sweat had formed, showing how much effort it had taken for Obi-Wan to just talk. It had been too much too soon. He painstakingly watched as Obi-Wan's eyes rolled, eyelids slowly closing, and finally succumbing to unconsciousness. Cautiously, Qui-Gon's eyes remained glued to the monitors that kept track of Obi-Wan's vitals. His vitals remained steady, but they were slower than he would have liked.

Resigned, Qui-Gon returned to his seat, pondering what Obi-Wan said. It had honestly sounded like an out-of-body experience. Not many Jedi had experienced such an event, but it wasn't unheard of. It was only known to happen when someone fully and deeply immersed themselves in the Force. Had Obi-Wan managed to delve so deeply into the Force that his soul been transported to another realm where the Force could actually be seen? To be so young and experience such an event was astounding.

He sighed. There wasn't much more that he could do at this point. Obi-Wan was out like a light and possibly would remain that way for hours. The only other option he had at this point was Jaelin. Arranging a meeting with the master would be necessary as both were intently focused on the same subject - Sentinels. However, he knew that Jaelin held an intense schedule between all of his lectures that it would prove difficult. He may have to attend one of his lectures to get a word. As for now, he'd do his best to get some rest, assuming Obi-Wan remained stable. Hope was all he had for now.

 _Eleniel's smile had not diminished since she had observed Master Qui-Gon Jinn watch over Obi-Wan. Despite his stoic, calm, and reserved nature shown outwardly, he was a tender and gentle man on the inside, full of charity and kindness. Charity can be difficult to develop, but it certainly wasn't impossible. It required one to obtain a love for all life, understanding that each being was a unique and special individual, possessing their own talents, gifts, strengths, and weaknesses. Charity taught the eyes to truly see and the heart to feel._

 _She stepped closer to Obi-Wan's bedside, her long hair trailing behind. Her feet barely hovered above the floor as she knew that once she touched, life would spring forth and she wanted to remain as anonymous as possible. The Master, Qui-Gon had long since fallen into a deep sleep brought on by the intensity of the day. He needed the rest. Even though the master would deny it, she knew better._

 _Tenderly, she placed her fourth finger in the center of Obi-Wan's forehead and her palm over his heart, lying most of the pressure on her thumb. Ganon had stolen the boy's life, destroying his physical and spiritual health. With a single touch in the Sacred Realm, she had been able to restore life to him physically, but hadn't been able to fully mend his spirit. Ganon had made short work of it by interruption. The repair of spirit was imperative. A damaged spirit could not dwell in a mortal body for long._

 _Tendrils of golden light filled Obi-Wan's veins, illuminating his skin. Breathing deeply, she channelled her spirit into his, allowing her to weave his damaged spirit like delicate silk. As she did so, she saw all of his memories, even the ones that had been suppressed. She treasured each memory she saw. All of his successes, failures, fears, and desires. Each one of them made him who he was. That's what she loved about the boy. Despite his hardships, he remained humble and true. He wasn't bitter about the past, but cherished each experience and learned from them._

 _She continued to weave as she sunk deep in thought. Her hands were delicate, like a master artist, handling each strand of spirit with care. Eventually, she finished weaving the last strands of his spirit and the golden light began to fade. In fluid movements, she lifted her hands and with her right, swiped her fourth finger across his forehead, leaving behind a golden streak of light. A seal to preserve her work and protect him from the darkness for a short time while in recovery. Just like all injuries, it would take time to fully heal._

 _She breathed deeply and slowly lowered her palms, removing her spirit from his. For a time, she stood silently, observing the boy finally sleeping peacefully without pain. It was during this time she wondered if some parts of her spirit remained entwined with his, but she knew the answer. Her connection had been severed, but she couldn't rid herself of the urge to stay by his side. He reminded her too much of her own child, Alyan. Among the children she had in life - Glandur and Alyan, only one was with her in the Force. Glandur had passed, but Alyan remained. How long had it been? It had been at least several millenniums. She'd lost track. It didn't matter. Despite her death and transformation into the Force itself, she still kept her motherly instincts close to heart._

 _A tear slid down her cheek as she tenderly laid her hand on his head, feeling each strand of hair. Moments passed in silence, her hand still resting on Obi-Wan's head. Eventually, she hesitantly withdrew her hand and stepped backward, wings fluttering. It was time to go. A small sliver of daylight leaked in through the window. Coruscant had confused her ever since it grew into a city planet, destroying the life-blood of the planet, but now she understood. With all the levels of buildings on the planet, many yearned to live on the higher levels because it was where the light was. The light that failed to reach the deepest sub-levels of the city-planet. Her heart mourned for those who yearned for the light, but were forced to live in darkness._

 _Master Qui-Gon stirred at her side as the sun continued to rise. Lightly, she touched the center of his forehead with her finger, easing him back into light slumber. As she backed away into the growing light, she caught one last glance at Obi-Wan and smiled. Then, bowing her head, she slowly faded into the light._

Qui-Gon briskly made his way to Master Jaelin Kong's instruction room. He had attempted to meet with the master earlier during his office hours, but had failed to do so. The mere mention of the meeting had gotten Vokara's attention and purposefully sapped his time in order to discuss Obi-Wan's prognosis. In the brief moment between his lectures, Jaelin had contacted him and invited him to attend one of his lectures, after which, he'd arrange to have a few minutes to speak with him.

He entered the instruction room, quietly slipping in to avoid disruption. Some of the Padawans took note of him due to his presence in the Force, but quickly turned their attention back to the lecture. It was obvious that the lecture had been underway for sometime, but that didn't deter him from listening. Jaelin had also taken notice to his presence and nodded his head in acknowledgement. A simple nod returned the gesture.

Leaning against the wall, he came to realize that this was the first time he'd ever attended one of Jaelin's lectures. Obi-Wan had only spoke of them in the highest regards and had even suggested that he attend one of them in his spare time. Until now, he hadn't had the time to. He couldn't help but smile as the master taught. Jaelin had no restraint when it came to sharing his passion for the history of the Jedi Order. Often times, he deviated from the syllabus to discuss other topics of interest. Whether the tangents were caused by the students or himself, neither seemed to mind. The class was centered around discussion after all.

Jaelin paced stiffly at the front of the room, hands clasped behind his back. "To return to the topic of interest from yesterday, what do we remember?"

A few padawans raised their hands. Jaelin motioned to a young Togrutan. They stood, their montrals swaying. "It was pointed out that much of our ancient history was destroyed during the Sith Wars. We also discussed the translated text and odd symbol that was uncovered in the Bardotan Libraries."

"Excellent! I'd like to clarify some key points that we weren't able to get to yesterday." Jaelin swiped a screen on the podium and brought up a chart. "I had asked Madame Nu to compile a chart for me to help us see how far back our knowledge has been documented."

Qui-Gon noted that the oldest records dated back to twenty-four thousand years. The amount wasn't significant, but definitely served as a solid foundation, but if there was information missing, wouldn't that make the foundation weaker? It would certainly compromise the solidity of the Order for sure.

"We know that the Order has been around for at least twenty-four thousand years, but our documented teachings and histories were either destroyed in the Sith Wars or lost to time. Despite these losses, we are fortunate to still have small fragments from the beginnings of our ancient order."

A padawan with flaming red hair raised their hand. "Master, in one of your essays, you state that some of these fragments may very well be told as parables to Younglings. Is it possible that these parables haven't been dated properly?"

"Excellent observation, Lark. Parables have been used throughout the ages since ancient times to teach. This is because they are simple and easy to understand, but also disguise information at simultaneously. Over the years, I've been able to prove a few parables as actual history, but they don't date beyond the threshold of our history. However, there is one parable that I suspect to surpass the threshold." He pulled up an image of a yellowed page of text from the podium. "Has anyone heard The Tale of Three?" The silence made it obvious that no one had. "As I suspected. The tale is not very well known because it is one of the few parables that is difficult to explain. Allow me to read it to you."

"Before time and man, there was the Force, but as time began, the Force shed forth three beams of light to dispel the darkness. With the dawn, the first beam burnt through the darkness and with strong, flaming arms, cultivated the land and created red earth. The second, poured forth wisdom, flowing like water upon the earth and gave the spirit of law to the world. Lastly, the third beam with it's rich and fertile light, created all the living inhabitants in the world to uphold the law. As the beams faded, their work complete, the Force gave itself as a gift to man and under it's light, man thrived. Man loved and revered the Force and sought to understand it. Among the knowledgeable ones, were three friends. Each had searched long and hard to understand the Force and wanted to share what they learned with others. The first was a woman who had seen the force manifest itself in it's purest form - a golden river of light. The second was a man blessed with power given to him by the Force. Lastly, the third was a simple man, born with courage to accomplish the impossible. However, one day, the light of the Force was darkened. The man of power had discovered a new way to manipulate and twist the Force for wicked and selfish purposes. The Force became putrid and decayed as the darkness changed him and those around him. Gluttonous, he gorged himself on the life force of man, drinking their blood and eating their flesh, sacrificing them for his lust of power. The man and woman tried to stop his ceaseless hunger, but he had grown too strong. Soon the darkness had nearly consumed the light, causing the living to flee to the sky above, but the man and woman remained with the brave to fight the darkness. During battle, the woman sacrificed herself to seal the dark lord away, but that was all she could do. The man had become immortal through powerful and cursed magic and she knew that the he would return time and time again, never to be fully stopped. However, she was glad that for the moment, they were able to have peace and more time to prepare for the dark lord's return. The courageous man watched in horror as the woman drew her last breath and faded into particles of light, but he held true. Many battles followed her death, the simple man desperate to cleanse the world of darkness. When the final battle was won, the man lost hope as he gazed upon the desolation that had been caused by his friend. He wept, but soon found himself comforted by a familiar presence. The Force flowed through his veins as he found himself joined by the woman. At that moment, he realized, she had become the Force. An Angel of Light to guide those who sought her. Despite the destruction, she promised that a way would be provided to protect the innocent from the darkness. A cycle of three that would never end."

Master Kong inhaled slowly, taking in the deep silence that had fallen over the classroom like a heavy blanket. A certain feel had entered the room and some weren't quite sure what to make of it. As the silence continued, Qui-Gon found himself deep in thought. The woman who became the Angel of Light reminded him of the Sentinel that both he and Obi-Wan had seen. Were they one and the same?

Jaelin's expression softened. "Now that you've all had time to consider the parable, what do we take away from it?"

A few padawans slowly raised their hands, the silence still thick. "The battle between light and dark, good and evil will never be over, but the Force is there to guide and protect us from destruction." A young rodian boy responded quietly, unsure of his answer.

"Excellent, but what else?" Jaelin pressed, his voice gentle.

Confidence flooded to the boy's face. "The three friends are symbols of the Force - The woman or Angel of Light literally being the Force. The man of darkness obviously representing the darkside and the simple man representing the lightside. The battle for good and evil will never end. Because of this, we need to understand that it is how life flows and as Jedi we are responsible for defending the light and keeping the balance."

Jaelin nodded, smiling brightly. "Very good insight." He glanced at Qui-Gon from the corner of his eye. "Master Jinn, were you told this parable as a Youngling?"

Qui-Gon remained where he was, arms folded. "Not that I recall."

An almost mischievous look crossed Jaelin's countenance as he leaned casually against the podium. "As an older member of the Jedi Order, what insight do you have to offer?"

He raised a brow, not pleased at being called old. He knew what Jaelin was poking at. It was obvious that he wanted to discuss Obi-Wan's Sentinel encounter in connection with the parable. Afterall, it only made sense.

"Is it possible for the Angel of Light to be connected with the your Theory of Sentinels?" Qui-Gon decided to play along for now, but wanted to beat around the bush for a time. This was something he honestly preferred to speak with Jaelin about this in private.

"Good question." Jaelin's eyes lit up, pleased that Qui-Gon had taken the bait. He straightened. "For those who haven't heard the Theory of Sentinels, it is a theory that states that the act of transcending death allows one to become a literal guardian of the Force, retaining individuality within it. However, there is a contradictory theory. The Theory of One states that upon death, a Jedi will become one with the Force and nothing more for as one, we are strong."

Lark raised his hand once more. "Master Kong, wasn't the Theory of Sentinels rejected by the Jedi Council?"

The Force twinged, small ripples washing over the room. Jaelin exhaled sharply. "Unfortunately yes. I had brought the theory before the Council years ago, based upon my research and findings, but they considered it a deviation and rejected it."

Qui-Gon began walking towards the front of the room. "Rejection is easy when one has not seen or experienced it themselves." Jaelin frowned, uncertain if Qui-Gon was trying to defend or fight against him. That didn't deter him though. "Tell me, can you see the Force?"

Some of the Padawans shook their heads.

"And yet, you can feel it course through your veins. You see it work as you utilize the skills you have been taught. The Council, in my opinion, is contradicting their own teachings by rejecting the possible truth within the theory."

Jaelin smirked, pleased to know he had an ally. "Master Jinn brings up an excellent point. Seeing isn't always believing. Believing is seeing."

Before Jaelin could continue, several other hands raised. He nodded towards a young twi'lek with yellow-green skin. She bowed slightly in response, thanking him for calling on her. "With the understanding of the Sentinels, isn't it wise for us to consider all parts of the parable? For example, the man who turned the Darkside, are we to assume that he is merely a symbol or an actual being?"

Qui-Gon immediately remembered the dark presence that Obi-Wan had said attacked him. Flaming red hair, darkened skin, and a red gem in the middle of his forehead. Were they also the same?

It soon became obvious that Jaelin wasn't sure how to respond. He'd dedicated more time and effort into researching Sentinels rather than dark beings. "Going along with Master Jinn's statement, I believe it is safe to say that they are much more than a symbol."

"Is there documentation on this dark being like there is for the Sentinel?" The young twi'lek pressed, her head tilting curiously.

Jaelin fiddled with the presentation remote in his hands. "I'm certain that there is, but I haven't dedicated enough time to that aspect of the parable just yet. In order for me to prove certain aspects, I have to pay attention to each detail. For now, I have focused on the Sentinels, but when I find what I'm searching for, I'll move forward to the other subjects in question."

It was a safe answer, but a very vague one. Simply, it served as another way to say that he hadn't worked on it yet and didn't know. The padawan seemed disappointed with his response, but meekly accepted it. She sat down quietly, her hands playing with the tip of one of her lekku. Qui-Gon gazed at her quietly, knowing that he couldn't keep quiet. There was more to ask.

"In your research, has the dark being ever been mentioned elsewhere besides the parable?" Qui-Gon inquired, briefly glancing at the young padawan. She seemed to perk up. "It would only make sense that there would be some sort of documentation found alongside that of the Sentinels."

Exasperated, Jaelin stopped playing with the remote and set it on the podium. "Once or twice I suppose. In the few accounts that I've found, it states that the dark being usually shows up shortly after a Sentinel, the encounters usually devastating, but that's only in theory. As I said, I haven't spent enough time on the matter."

"Devastating enough to cause unexplained deaths?" Qui-Gon raised a brow, hoping to squeeze as much info from Jaelin as possible.

That got his attention. Jaelin stared at him silently for a moment or two before continuing, knowing what Qui-Gon was hinting at. "Perhaps, Master Jinn, but we don't know for certain."

"Then it's something to look into." Qui-Gon's eyes flashed sharply, obviously making his point.

Jaelin glanced at the clock. "It appears we've run out of time, but I will take that into consideration for another lecture. In the meantime, please read the following selections before the next lecture. I want you to all be educated in the topic that we will discuss further."

As the padawans filed out of the room quietly conversing amongst themselves, Qui-Gon retreated to a quiet corner at the front of the room. He removed the folded sketch that Obi-Wan had drawn from his belt and unfolded it thoughtfully. He had once been among those who had felt Jaelin's theory to be far fetched, but after seeing the same Angel or Sentinel that Obi-Wan had seen, there was no way he could deny it now.

He glanced up. Jaelin had gaggle of students gathered around him, asking questions regarding the current or past lectures. He seemed enthralled by their questions and was quickly jotting down notes on his datapad. Each padawans' thoughts, theories, questions, and proposals were highly considered and would be well looked into by the dedicated historian. The simple gesture obviously left a good impression on all of his students, allowing him to have a unique friendship with each padawan.

Eventually, the crowd of padawans filed out, leaving Jaelin alone, still jotting down notes.

He inhaled deeply when he finished, putting his stylus down. "I apologize if attending my lecture created any inconveniences."

"Not at all, Jaelin. Vokara caused the inconvenience for our previously scheduled meeting." Qui-Gon scoffed. He folded the drawing absentmindedly.

"She does that." He rolled his eyes and slammed the datapad on the podium. "She'll do anything to keep people from meeting with me."

"Is it because you don't see eye to eye?" Qui-Gon casually joined him over by the podium.

He bit his lip. "It's more of a question of beliefs, actually. Science insists on finding truth based on fact. I, however, am willing to act on gut instinct when no real evidence can be found." Anxiously, he began picking up the many books from each of the desks. He was quite old fashioned in that regard. Most taught from only digital sources.

"The Force allows us to sense things before they happen without any further proof, so I am uncertain as to why the Council would reject your theory." Qui-Gon found himself assisting Jaelin with book collection.

A stack of books slammed against the hardtop of a nearby desk. "Exactly! Because they don't see, they don't believe and yet, they trust the 'unseen' Force. Quite contradictory if you ask me."

For a moment, Qui-Gon paused to watch Jaelin slam several books on nearby desks in need piles close to the bookshelves. He wasn't quite sure how to respond, so he figured he change directions slightly. "Putting the council aside, Jaelin, what I am here to speak with you about is the Sentinel we discussed last night."

"Curious, are we?" The master smiled as he piled up a few more books.

"More than that, I'm afraid." He hesitated slightly, unsure of his decision to disclose his experience. "Obi-Wan has been quite adamant about what he saw. He even managed to use what little strength he had to draw what he saw." He handed the sketch to Jaelin.

Jaelin examined it closely, gently tracing each line with his finger. "Simply extraordinary." He breathed in awe. "A well done rendition of her likeness, I assume. I've never seen one of her before. And you believe him?"

"It is difficult not to believe when you have seen it for yourself." Qui-Gon replied quietly, feeling sheepish.

Jaelin paused and Qui-Gon feared the man's mouth would drop open. "You've also seen the Sentinel?"

He nodded slowly. There was no turning back now. "I know what I saw, Jaelin. It was not a hallucination."

"Denial is certainly out of the question." Jaelin's eyes flickered, his strong jaw clenched. "I would feel the same." He sighed. "What do you think this means?"

Qui-Gon began placing the books back on their shelves. "I don't know, but it is something that cannot be dismissed. Is it possible that the woman in the parable and the Sentinel are one in the same?"

"I should say so. They both share the same characteristics." Jaelin joined him, several other books in hand. He paused, smoothing his hand over the cover of a book. "Eleniel, Angel of the Force. Wish I could have seen her." He scoffed. "I've only been searching for concrete evidence on her for half of my life and you just see her out of the blue."

Qui-Gon found himself laughing slightly. "I suppose you are jealous?"

The master laughed as he put the last of the books back on the shelf. "I've done all the hard research only to have you beat me to it using no effort." There were no hard feelings in his voice. Just disappointment. "However, I do want to ask why you pressed the matter on the dark being in the parable?"

"Obi-Wan told me what happened to him. He was meditating when he said he entered another realm of sorts. The only thing that stood out was a golden river of light. That's when Eleniel appeared. Apparently, she told him that the river he saw was the Force, but that she also was the Force. Then she left him and he was attacked by a dark presence, which ultimately ended his life." Qui-Gon struggled to get the words out, his tongue feeling heavy. "He described the presence as a man with flaming red hair, dark skin, and a red gem in the center of his forehead."

Jaelin nodded slowly as he wrote notes on the back of the drawing. Qui-Gon hadn't noticed that he was doing that. "That answers several questions, but has also generated more. The River of Light, the woman, and the dark man in the parable. All of it…." He trailed off, deep in thought and wonder. "I never paid much attention to the dark man, knowing that I would have to delve into Sith History, which is not an ideal thought. Researching the Sith is quite dangerous, even for the strong."

"It may be a risk we have to take." Qui-Gon mused. "Look what happened to Obi-Wan. I think it would be wise to know what we're dealing with exactly."

A sharp exhale and an inner battle fought later. "I understand, Qui-Gon. I'll see what I can do within reason." He glanced up at the clock. "Back to work, I suppose. My next lecture begins in five minutes. I thank you for visiting, Qui-Gon. As always, it is a pleasure to meet with an old friend. Let me know if anything else should arise."

Escorted to the door, he turned to give respect to Jaelin. "I'll guarantee it, Jaelin. I will have to attend another of your lectures when I have the time."

"I'll look forward to it." Jaelin returned the gesture.

A simple smile and a silent farewell, Qui-Gon left the lecture hall, thoughts consumed by questions. Just like Jaelin had said, some questions were answered, but only generated more. He felt certain that the identity of the Sentinel and the dark man that Obi-Wan had seen were the ones in the parable, but it was just gut instinct. Naturally, he would assume that the parable, the account from the ancient master, and both his and Obi-Wan's encounters should have been enough, he knew that it wouldn't be in the eyes of the Council. One would suppose them still to be simply fairy tales and nothing more. A dream even, perhaps. At least he had Jaelin on his side, but that was all that both he and Obi-Wan had and he sincerely hoped it would be enough.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

As the Coruscant skies dipped into twilight, a golden light slowly spread across the sky like melted butter. Each stroke of light was a soothing balm that helped ease the hardships of the day. Brilliant rays of orange, red, and pink added to the golden light, streaking across the sky like fireworks. A hush fell over the city-planet as nature painted a masterpiece before them, capturing the eyes of many. Many took the time to pause and with masterful fingers, used their cameras to capture the beautiful scenery before it faded into darkness.

Obi-Wan gazed into the sunset, amazed at how vibrant it was. Throughout his life, he had observed many sunsets and enjoyed their beauty, but now it was different. He saw the beauty through different eyes. Eyes that had been darkened by death, but had life breathed into him once more.

Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the corner of a thick blanket, twisting it in his hands. He had been awake for some time now, but his thoughts tormented him. Despite seeing the world in a vibrant, new light, he distinctly felt the chill of darkness creeping on the edges of his defenses. It was like someone was breathing down his neck, causing him to bristle and lash out with fits of panic. Of course he knew how to deal with fear, but this….it felt different.

Biting his lip anxiously, he closed his eyes and allowed the light to warm his skin. It tingled under it's gentle touch, allowing his body to relax somewhat, but the chill of death still swirled deep within his heart and mind. Memories of the event still haunted him. The images of the dark man were so vivid that he couldn't rest. Just the memory of his sickly, yellowed eyes, drenched with hatred made his heart race with fear. Why had this man frightened him so much? He'd certainly faced and seen worse, but why had this man left so much of an impact?

As time went by, only a small sliver of golden light remained, the darkness cooling his skin. Immediately, he began to feel vulnerable as the darkness closed in. Pulling his knees to his chest, he felt his heartbeat quicken as fear grew within him. The tingling returned, but this time it was cold and numbing. He lifted his hand and watched it quiver rapidly. Burying his head in his knees, he tried to dismiss the panic he felt, but it just wouldn't leave. Desperately, he began tugging at his ponytail and braid as it gave him something else to focus on besides his fear. His body began to twitch as anxiety settled in for a long stay. He needed to escape. To get away!

His eyes scanned the room, looking for a way to escape the fear and darkness. A claustrophobic sensation overcame him, making it difficult to breathe as the space around him seemed to close in. Without thinking, he ripped the wires and tubing from his body and leapt from his bed. He staggered painfully to his feet, wobbling and disoriented. Getting his body to move properly was a challenge, but eventually he made his way towards the door, stumbling the entire way. Using the walls as a support, he managed to escape the Healing Halls and into the blue lighted walls of the Temple. Breathing heavily, he carefully made his way towards the one place he felt safe and secure - The Room of a Thousand Fountains.

When he finally entered the room, the cool, humid air wafted over him like a shimmer silk veil, gently caressing his tingling skin. The fear and tension slowly began to release their sharp claws that had gripped his heart so tightly only moments ago, allowing him to feel calm. As he walked, he took in the sights, smells, and textures that nature had to offer. The coolness of the damp stone beneath his bare feet, the distinct fresh scent of mist floating in the air above and below, the sound of the thousands of roaring waterfalls that filled the room. All of these seemed to help relieve him of his anxiety.

Eventually, he decided to stray from the stone path and wandered into the trees and foliage. It was a different route from his usual, but that didn't bother him. Life was full of new paths afterall. He paused to dig his toes into the rich soil beneath him. It was a luxury he had forgotten he had and it felt heavenly.

Suddenly, he lost his footing and found himself tumbling down an incline uncontrollably. He tried to stop his fall, but his hands were too weak to firmly grab onto anything. The air rushed from his lungs as he finally came to a hard stop at the bottom of the hill, scattering the thick mist that had settled there. Winded, he coughed, gasping for air. When his breathing normalized, he looked up the incline he'd just fallen down. Wincing, he got to his knees, shutting one eye in pain. He'd been fortunate to have missed every jagged rock that jutted from the grassy surface.

Before he could fully get back to his feet, he felt his blood instantly freeze as a wave of darkness overpowered him. He felt the fear and anxiety return at full force, paralyzing him. His heart raced as he scanned the room, looking for the source of the darkness.

" _We meet again, Boy."_ A deep, menacing voice said from behind him.

He whipped around and found himself face to face with the same dark man that had killed him the other day. It startled him so much that peddled backward and and fell into a small stream of waist deep water close to where he had landed. Stunned by the cold, he gasped and desperately tried to jump out of the water, but was painfully jerked out by his Padawan braid. His head hit the ground first, cracking against a rock. Vision dark and ears ringing, he groggily tried to right himself, but his body wouldn't cooperate. Warm blood gushed down the side of his face like a river, drenching his hair and white medical tunic. He raised a hand to apply pressure to the wound, but it didn't stop the flow completely. The skin under his braid stung with needling pain. It was pure luck that it hadn't been ripped off.

Laughing cruelly, the man kicked him in the ribs with his metal-tipped boot, sending him flying a few feet. When he landed, cried out in pain as he felt his ribs crack. He clutched his chest in agony, writhing like a worm on a hook. The man crouched beside him, his leather boots squeaking as he grabbed Obi-Wan's chin. Obi-Wan gasped in pain, but managed to spit bloody spittle into the man's face. In response, the man angrily squeezed his jaw almost to the point of breaking.

" _Seal or no seal, Eleniel cannot protect you forever."_ He hissed through gritted teeth. Grunting, the man threw him to the ground and shook his hand painfully, smoke rising from his skin. Obi-Wan noticed that the man's hand had been burnt badly. " _Once the seal on you has faded, you'll be mine."_

Coughing, Obi-Wan wiped the blood from his forehead with his loose tunic sleeve. "Who are you?"

The man clenched his injured hand and smiled. He looked like a deranged animal. " _I am surprised that Eleniel didn't tell you. How foolish of her. I am Ganondorf, Demon King of Darkness."_

Obi-Wan felt his heart sink into his gut. "You are Sith." Bile rose in his throat.

" _In a manner of speaking."_ Ganondorf bared his teeth, his smile thirsty for blood.

The Force swelled once more with darkness, forcing Obi-Wan to retch blood and bile, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. Sputtering, he glanced from the corner of his eye and saw Ganondorf summon balls of writhing purple energy to his hands. Fueled by anger, he stalked his prey, circling him menacingly, waiting for the right moment to strike. Obi-Wan felt like an injured animal, helpless and vulnerable. He knew that his body had no strength left to give. There would be no escape from this.

Suddenly, a fierce gust of wind ripped through the trees like a streaking star fighter, tearing branches and ripping the leaves from the trees. As if he'd been hit physically, the force of the wind knocked Ganondorf off his feet and sent him skidding like a rock a few meters away from Obi-Wan, leaving a trail of shredded earth behind him. For a brief moment, there was silence as the wind settled. Then, somewhere within the dust and smoke, Ganon grunted and screamed like an injured feral animal. Obi-Wan covered his ears, hoping to shut out the scream.

" _Ganon, leave this place! You have no power here."_ A commanding voice said, silencing the screams. Obi-Wan looked up to see the Sentinel, Eleniel standing beside him. She held a gleaming sword in her left hand, it's blade made of pure diamond. Lifting it slowly, she angled it at Ganondorf's chest. " _Get out!_ "

Slowly, Ganondorf emerged from the settling dust snarling, foaming at the mouth. His dark skin flushed red. "You cannot _dismiss me!"_ He growled, baring his teeth.

Eleniel cocked her sword close to her cheek, the blade lightly touching her luminescent skin. " _Leave, Ganon."_

The Force blazed with hatred, the invisible flames literally setting fire to the trees and foliage around them. Ganondorf leaned his head back and let out another blood-curdling scream. Wide-eyed, Obi-Wan sat on the ground, nursing his injuries, watching in horror. Never in his entire life had he ever heard a scream like that. It was as if he were staring into the nine layers of Hell.

Despite the fearsome display, Eleniel stood firm, her feet rooted to the ground. Her golden eyes burned with determination, ready for an impending attack. An aura of darkness slowly began to seep out of Ganondorf's skin. Fluidly, Eleniel jabbed her sword into the earth and clasped her hands, pressing them to her heart. A white light emerged from her delicate form as if it were a shield and began to push against the darkness. Ganon raised both arms to push back, his muscles straining from the effort. Both fought to keep each other at bay, but eventually, Eleniel's light overcame his darkness. Ganondorf flew backwards once more, screaming and sparking with electricity. He lay on the ground, body smoking.

Eleniel visibly relaxed, but remained defensive. Her gaze softened as she watched Ganondorf fought to get on his feet, spitting and cursing. She raised her head confidently, golden eyes flashing. " _You are defeated, Ganon. You will leave."_

" _NEVER!"_ Ganondorf bellowed, spittle dribbling down his chin. " _YOU'LL NEVER BE RID OF ME!"_ His muscles tensed and bulged, ripping through his clothing. Long, yellowed tusks emerged from his mouth and a long mane of flaming red hair grew from his head and down his back as he transformed into a large beast.

Obi-Wan clutched his aching ribs, heart racing. It nearly stopped when Eleniel placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, startling him. The sudden movement sent pain through his chest, restricting his ability to breathe. She looked at him tenderly, eyes shimmering with sadness. His breathing normalized as she began to channel herself, the Force, through his veins, dislodging the darkness that had clogged them. Eventually, she withdrew herself and raised her sword. She tilted her head playfully and smiled, letting him know that everything would be fine.

Then, a sudden explosion claimed their attention, scorching them with displaced air. Ganondorf's human form had completely transformed into a massive wild beast, controlled by anger and hate. The Darkside washed over them like a crushing wave, leaving in it's wake, darkness. He bellowed once more as Eleniel drew near.

" _I once more ask you to dismiss yourself, Ganon. You have no power here."_ Her steps were slow, but purposeful. She had reclaimed her blade from the earth, clasping it tightly in her hand. The blade flashed with brilliant light, taking on the appearance of a lightsaber.

Defiantly, Ganon clawed the ground and roared. Undeterred, Eleniel tightly gripped her sword as Ganon charged. Tears fell from her eyes as she waited for the right moment to strike. The earth shook from the weight of Ganon's large claws as he ran, head low to the ground, tusks ripping the earth. At the last possible moment, Eleniel dodged effortlessly and swung her blade, slicing off one of his tusks. It fell to the ground with a loud thud, its essence burning the grass around it.. Ganon reared angrily, shaking his flaming mane. Once more, he pawed the ground and prepared to charge, his fangs bared.

Eleniel readied herself and twirled her blade expertly, preparing for another attack. Ganon snorted and leapt forward. As he did, Eleniel sliced the air, cutting brilliant, precise lines of light to form a rune. Gathering strength, Eleniel angled her sword to align with the center of the rune and with a shout, thrust the sword through it. In an instant, Ganon vanished into particles of light mid-charge. The air around fell silent, except for the soft tinkling of particles slowly falling to the ground.

Obi-Wan stared in awe, ignoring his pain, as Eleniel slowly thrust the sword into the earth. It too faded away into particles of light. She sighed and walked towards him. He could still see the sadness in her eyes. Why was she sad?

Lightly, she knelt beside him, her expression one of concern. " _You'd be wise to rest, Young One. It isn't wise to wander in such a state."_

He sighed. She was definitely scolding him. "My thoughts are too …..chaotic to allow me to rest." He looked away, ashamed.

" _Do not let fear shape your thoughts. It gives the darkness power."_ Eleniel placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him.

Obi-Wan glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Is it possible that my fears allowed him to manifest himself?"

Eleniel nodded slowly, wings rustling. She brushed a long strand of golden hair behind her ear. " _Very much so. The Seal he is bound to weakens over time, allowing him to feed off of sentients fears and hatred. Eventually, he grows powerful enough to break the seal and wreak havoc on the galaxy._ " She looked him in the eye. " _Do you fear him?"_

Sheepishly, Obi-Wan pulled his knees to his chest, but cringed when his ribs protested. "I suppose I am…" He trailed off.

" _Admitting fear is a step forward, Young One."_ She smiled tenderly. " _Fear is not overcome in a single night. Rather, it is a lifelong trial that makes us stronger."_

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, deep in thought. "You knew him well, didn't you?"

Eleniel lowered her eyes, golden hair spilling over her shoulders. " _In mortality, yes. He was a dear friend, but now...I exist in the light of the Force and he exists in the darkness."_ She looked up, eyes shimmering. " _We have become Yin and Yang, light and dark, Tui and La, push and pull, good and evil._ "

"How did you both become immortal?" Obi-Wan massaged his chest, hoping to dispel the pain.

" _Enlightenment. Both of us reached a crossroad in our mortality and chose. I chose the light of the Force and thus was rewarded by becoming it. Ganon, however, full of anger and hate used dark magic to curse himself with immortality, vowing to haunt the light for all eternity. Now our actions affect the entire universe."_ She played with a strand of her long hair before throwing it over her shoulder again.

"A Curse?" He found himself tilting his head. "As in Sith magic?"

Eleniel frowned. " _He is the Founder and Creator of that magic known to those you call Sith. It is a dangerous magic. For many millenniums, it has taken thousands of lives, both Jedi and Sith._ "

"I've heard that the Sith used to sacrifice Jedi using Sith magic to honor their Gods." Obi-Wan wasn't comfortable about the topic, but he couldn't stop himself from being curious.

Her eyes flashed, narrowing somewhat. " _Curiosity, Young One, is the reason why many Jedi have fallen. You must be careful. However, you are correct. Many Jedi have been sacrificed to their false God, who in fact, is Ganondorf. His name has been lost over time, but they all know of him."_

Obi-Wan touched the side of his head gingerly. It stung, but not badly. "Perhaps the destruction of the Jedi Archives thousands of years ago during the Sith Wars played a part in that."

Eleniel nodded in agreement, but stood abruptly, her eyes and ears focused on something unseen in the distance. Obi-Wan turned his head to try and see what she had detected, but he saw nothing. The silence between them lasted for a moment, but she eventually turned her attention back to him. " _I know that you are filled with questions, Young One, but I cannot answer all at this time. Please rest and do not let your fear control you._ " With that, she quickly vanished into brilliant particles of white light.

Obi-Wan watched the particles floated delicately through the trees and foliage until they vanished from sight. As they vanished, he felt the equivalent to having a large, heavy weight placed upon his chest, forcing him to the ground. It was the same feeling he had when he met Eleniel the first time. When she had left, her presence left such a void in the Force that when it rushed back in so violently, it sapped all of his strength.

He lifted his head when he heard frantic voices shouting in the distance, calling his name. The movement sent his vision spirling and nearly made him retch. Ribs burning, he slowly laid his head back into the soft grass. He tried to call out, but his voice only came out as a hoarse whisper. Coughing a few times, he attempted to sit up again, but his vision flashed white and he felt his head loll back. A numbing sensation overcame his body as his consciousness faded. Desperate to stay conscious, he tried again to sit up, but instead of white, he saw black and after that, nothing.

Qui-Gon ripped through the trees like a debilitated starship screaming and smoking through the atmosphere. Vokara ran close enough behind him to nip at his heels. She had been the one to notify him about Obi-Wan's unexpected escape from the Healing Halls and before she had a chance to finish, he had already broken into a mad dash. If Obi-Wan had escaped on his own accord, he knew exactly where to look. However, the dark thought of capture entered his mind. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. It wasn't possible. Escape was a more logical explanation since Obi-Wan absolutely abhorred being trapped in the Healing Halls. He had always focused on other's needs before his own, which was fine, but the matter of taking care of himself had always been a problem. There had been many lectures regarding that subject. Despite the scoldings, his intelligent minded Padawan still insisted on forcing himself to keep going no matter what ailed him so long as the needs of came first.

Breathing rapidly, heart racing, he paused when he returned to the cobbled path through the forest and falls. Vokara halted as well, lekku twitching and swaying with worry. She looked at him through concerned, blue eyes.

Eyes searching, Qui-Gon once more tuned in to the Force, but it felt so….chaotic, making it difficult to focus. What had caused such a disturbance? He glanced at Vokara. She shook her head, knowing his question without him asking. He ran a hand through his long, brown hair anxiously, unsure of what to do. If he couldn't pin Obi-Wan's Force signature, it would make finding him difficult.

He soon found that Vokara had began slowly walking up the cobbled path, lekku swaying behind her. The fact that she had moved without him noticing was alarming. His emotions were getting the best of him. Catching his breath, he followed behind her, watching the speckled light skitter across her blue skin like glitter on a shimmersilk gown. Despite the chaotic feeling in the Force, the dense forest around them seemed completely peaceful and untouched by the thick sludge of darkness.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the forest, shaking the walls and ground as if they were caught in the middle of a massive earthquake. Qui-Gon nearly fell to his knees, but managed to steady himself on the trunk of a nearby tree. Both of them clutched their ears, desperately trying to protect their delicate eardrums. The scream continued and the intensity of it made Qui-Gon worry that his ears would start to bleed. Then the scream ended abruptly. Cautiously, Qui-Gon uncovered his ears. The ground still shook, making it difficult to continue forward without stumbling. He looked up just as a brilliant flash of light exploded in the distance and was soon followed by the deafening scream once more.

Vokara glanced at him, nose scrunched in pain, lekku writhing. "What in the nine Hells was that?"

"I'm not sure." He said shaking his head, the scream still echoing in his ears. "But it certainly requires investigation."

The ground shook once more, nearly knocking them off their feet. Vokara grabbed his arm to keep herself steady. "Excellent observation, Master Obvious."

The response had been sarcastic, but it didn't bother him. Qui-Gon waited for her to release her grip before moving forward. He looked in the direction the light had come from and closed his eyes. A faint, low rumbling could still be heard coming from that direction. What was going on over there?

Inhaling, he took off once more, running like the wind. Vokara ran at his side, this time, she managed to stay in time with his pounding feet. As they drew closer, the screams became more intense. Both covered their ears once more, but kept running towards the screams undeterred. Suddenly, a wave of dark energy hit them like wrecking ball, forcing them off their feet. Qui-Gon felt his large frame skid and roll across the cobbled walkway a few feet before coming to a stop at the base of a tall tree.

Groaning, he rubbed his head in pain. Vokara knelt a few feet from him shaking her head.

"Wasn't expecting that." She looked up slowly, hand on her head. "Ever since your Padawan had his incident, strange things have been happening. First the 'Sentinel', now an unexplained and powerful source of the Darkside in the middle of the temple that just toppled us like a rundown building. The screams and the mini earthquake are the Muja on top."

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth as he painfully got to his feet. His equilibrium had become unbalanced through the combination of the deafening screams and skidding trip down the path, so he swayed a little. "We'll get to the bottom of it, Vokara." He hissed as a streak of pain shot up his spine. Vokara instinctively moved to help him, but he gently pushed her away. "Let's go."

She hesitated, analyzing him to make sure that he was alright. He straightened, forcing the pain in his spine to subside. Unconvinced, she wrinkled her nose and nodded. "After you, Qui-Gon."

With that, he took off running once more. His head still hurt, but he couldn't let it bother him now. Whatever was causing those screams and rumblings wasn't good and he had a sinking feeling that Obi-Wan was in the middle of it. Distinct images of the red-haired man that Obi-Wan had described to him flashed into his mind. Had Obi-Wan been telling him the truth about this dark man? He hadn't lied about the Sentinel and he knew that only because he'd seen the Sentinel himself as well. According to both Obi-Wan and Jaelin, the Sentinel _was_ the Lightside of the Force. Then what of the Dark Man? Could he be an entity that literally was the Darkside as well?

He skidded at the top of a fairly large hill, breathing hard. A faint, metallic smell filled the air. It was a familiar scent, but he couldn't seem to place it. It smelt of blood and something….sulphuric. Then he saw it. A long, curved object lay amongst smouldering grass. Just looking at it nearly forced him to his knees to retch. He felt the bile rise in his throat, but he was able to keep it down. Was that the source of the Darkside they felt?

Throwing away all caution, he lept to the bottom of the hill, dispersing a small portion of mist as he did so. Vokara followed after him, landing lightly beside him. He watched her gingerly inch towards the object, sword hand ready to draw if needed. She jumped back when it cracked and spit fire. The fire was put out when a stream of pussy liquid gushed out from the deep crack. The liquid steamed and sizzled when it hit green grass like water hitting a hot surface.

Qui-Gon covered his nose and mouth with his hand, attempting to block out the noxious smell it let off. He lightly stepped around the sizzling patches of grass and crouched to get a closer look. The object had a strange texturing to it. Some parts of it were smooth, almost as if it had been sharpened on a wet stone. Others were rough and cracked. It wasn't wood, but it did have similarities. On the end, it was blackened as if it had been severed with a lightsaber - clean and cauterized.

Vokara crouched on the other side, lekku sliding over her shoulder. She looked up at him curiously. "Almost looks like a tusk from a wild animal."

Shifting slightly, Qui-Gon found himself stumbling backwards into a small depression. He glanced down and traced the depression with the tips of his fingers. "A very large animal."

"How could something that big get in here without anyone noticing? Especially since it emits waves of the Darkside energy." Vokara straightened, lightly dusting herself off. "At the very least, Master Yoda should have sensed it."

Slowly, Qui-Gon stood up, staring at the tusk before him. It made him sick just to look at. "One would think."

Mist swirled at his feet as he began to walk around carefully. He didn't want to take any risks if the strange beast was still around. The fact that the screams had abruptly stopped was alarming and the silence made his ears ring.

Using the Force, Qui-Gon waved his hand, pushing the mist away from his feet, revealing more scorch marks, large tracks, and clawed earth. The air around him hung heavily with the Darkside, making his heart race faster. As he wandered further, he saw that trees were snapped like twigs, their severed trunks jutting dangerously from the ground like spikes. A large, steaming divot of earth ripped across the ground like a scar, leaving piles of upheaved dirt, rocks, and trees in it's wake.

What in blazes had happened here?

Vokara looked just as amazed and confused as he must have. Her jaw had dropped slightly as her eyes scanned the area, taking in the damage. Lekku twitching nervously, she paused when she spotted a small pool of blood at the base of a rock. She knelt down to examine the area, looking for more clues.

As she did so, a small group of Temple Guards followed by Master Yoda appeared at the top of the hill. The old, green Master slowly made his way down the hill, gesturing to the Guards as he went. Two of the Guards remained at the top, their double lightsabers drawn. When he reached the bottom, he looked around at the devastation around them. Qui-Gon couldn't tell if Yoda was concerned or surprised as the Master hid it well.

His long ears twitched as if he were anxious. "What happened here, Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon bowed respectfully and watched Vokara do the same from where she was. "I'm not quite certain. That's what we are attempting to figure out."

Yoda's large eyes blinked, hiding any emotion he may have been feeling. "Alright, your Padawan is?"

The fact that Yoda already knew that Obi-Wan might have been involved took him by surprise. "Hopefully so. He managed to escape the Healing Halls and supposedly came here. It's the most likely place he'd come besides his own quarters." Qui-Gon watched Yoda slowly walk towards the divot.

"Find him, you must." Yoda seemed to ponder the long divot. "Weighs heavily, the Darkside does here."

Qui-Gon stepped to join the Master, but paused when he noticed something odd. Small patches of flowers grew in shapes oddly similar to footprints. They dotted the ground around them, sometimes in long strips, while others were in small patches. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"What about the Lightside?" Qui-Gon asked absentmindedly, still intrigued by the footprints of flowers.

Yoda paused to face him. "Strong, it is." He grunted as he walked forward. "Stronger than I have ever felt. Yes. Clashed with the Darkside, it has."

Vokara joined them, carefully securing a microchip into her comlink. A blood sample perhaps? "So the forces of light and dark decided to have a fight in our own backyard."

Yoda grunted in agreement. "More, there is going on than we know. Much more."

Qui-Gon lowered his gaze back to the flower patches. He still couldn't sense Obi-Wan. Had he died again? Surely he hadn't because he would have felt it. Or had it been masked by the Force from this odd event.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar tinkling sound. The same sound he'd heard when he saw the Sentinel. Attentively, his eyes snapped up to catch a glimpse of small floating lights swirling a few feet from him. He briefly looked back at Master Yoda and Vokara, but they didn't seem to have taken notice to the sound. Both were too focused on discussing the oddity of the event.

Discreetly, he made his way towards the swirling lights that hung in midair, slowly swirling in place. As he drew close, they shifted quickly as if they were trying to indicate that something was there. The knee-deep mist didn't help much because it covered the ground in a thick, white blanket. That made it difficult to find anything close to the ground. Using the Force, he pushed the mist away and found Obi-Wan lying unconscious next to the gurgling stream. His heart nearly stopped as he leapt to Obi-Wan's side.

Gently, he pulled Obi-Wan's limp body into his arms and cradled his head. He put his hand over the boy's mouth and was relieved when he felt warm breath coming from his nose and mouth. Obi-Wan was alive! When he removed his hand, it came away sticky with semi-dry blood. He tilted Obi-Wan's head to get a closer look. A long gash ran down the side of his face, barely missing his temple. A bloody trickle of blood also ran from the corner of his mouth, some of it foaming red.

"Qui-Gon! Did you find him?" A voice called out, startling him.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Vokara wave to him. Sighing, he gently began to gather Obi-Wan up to carry him. "Yes!"

Next thing he knew, Vokara was charging at him. "Don't you _dare_ move him! If you do, I'll stitch your fingers together while you sleep!"

It was an empty threat, but he knew that she was completely serious about moving him. Gently, he laid Obi-Wan back onto the ground and waited for Vokara to join him. She practically slid onto her knees to the ground at full speed. Scooting closer like a little child, her gentle fingers examined the gash on the side of Obi-Wan's head.

"Must have hit that rock I found splattered with blood earlier." Gently, she wiped some blood away from the gash with a sterile wipe. It was deep and would require stitches. She paused when she noticed the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Inhaling, she placed her hands lightly on Obi-Wan's chest and slowly moved them downwards, scanning for internal injuries. "He's got a couple of broken ribs and at least two that are either bruised for cracked."

Qui-Gon sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Obi-Wan had escaped death barely the first time and now this. "One crisis averted and another arises."

"And a lung to fix." Vokara added, still scanning his chest. "I think one of the ribs was shoved into his right lung. Someone or something kicked him hard in this chest. Look at the bruising." She gently pulled Obi-Wan's tunic open, revealing a large, black and blue bruise squarely forming in the middle of his chest.

He cringed at the sight and felt his heart drop like a stone. "Is he bleeding internally?"

Vokara shook her head. "Not horribly so and he won't get worse if we get him _back_ to the Healing Halls immediately to fix his lung and ribs." She ran a hand over her lekku. "Your Padawan is quite accident prone as of late." She gestured to the Temple Guards to come over and assist.

As the Guards came over, Qui-Gon stood to get out of the way to let Vokara do her work. He watched them gently lift Obi-Wan's body onto the gurney they brought with them in one fluid movement. They strapped him in gently and carefully carried him away.

Feeling forlorn, Qui-Gon watched them as they disappeared from view. "What is going on?" He whispered to himself.

"Find the answer, you will." He hadn't realized that Yoda had joined him that when he spoke, it startled him.

"I certainly hope so, Master." Sighing, he knelt before Yoda, head bowed. He felt like a little child too shy to ask the questions he needed answered. "I ask for your insight and counsel regarding the matter."

Yoda grunted disapprovingly. "My counsel, you seek? None, I have to give."

Qui-Gon looked up distraught. "Master?"

The old master sighed and leaned heavily on his gimer stick. "Uncertain, I am. Strange, the events of late are and understand them, I do not. Beyond me, this is."

Qui-Gon looked at his feet, pondering. "Would Jaelin knowledge serve us well, Master? I understand that much of what he's brought before you has been rejected, but wouldn't it be wise to look at it once more?"

"Rejected his theories were because incorrect, we thought he was. Aligned with the Order, his theories were not." Yoda frowned. "But, a good source he may be as fit within his expertise, this does."

Unsure of what to think, Qui-Gon looked at the old Master with curiosity. "Are you supposing that Jaelin's theories are truth?"

Yoda didn't respond for a few moments, silently contemplating, eyes closed. "No, but all we have, Jaelin is."

Slowly, the old master began to walk away, grunting as he went. Qui-Gon watched him go. Yoda obviously didn't believe any of Jaelin's theories, but the fact that now everything relied on his theories now seemed to throw the old master off guard. He glanced at the torn and scorched earth around him. If the ancient master couldn't explain what happened here and Jaelin was their only lead, the Order was in for a wild ride.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

"What in stars name happened, Qui-Gon?" Jaelin thumbed through the images on Qui-Gon's datapad, his brow furrowed with curiosity. "It is quite unsettling to realize that a creature of that stature could manage to infiltrate the temple without anyone noticing." He glanced at Qui-Gon. "Except you of course. What did it look like?"

Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his eyes. He was tired. "Unfortunately I never saw the creature. I only heard it." His hand moved to rub at his ear, remembering how painful the creature's scream had been.

The older master gave him a slight nod. "Did your Padawan see it?" He continued to flick through the images. "I heard he was there."

"Supposedly, but he hasn't said a word about the matter." He rubbed his left temple. It throbbed tenderly under his fingertips. The days since had been long and grueling. "It has been a month since it happened and he still refuses to speak in general. Not to me. Not to Yoda. Not to anyone."

Jaelin cringed, sympathy clearly showing. "I apologize for prying, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon exhaled, letting his hand fall to the arm rest. "No need, Jaelin. The Council has pried and inquired since the beginning of it all. It has become normal."

For a moment, there was silence between them. Hesitantly, Jaelin slowly turned his attention back to the images. "It's odd, Qui-Gon, that Master Yoda advised you seek my counsel rather than his." He sniffed disdainfully. "Taking into consideration that my research is seen as a violation to the very laws and foundational teachings of the Jedi Order."

Immediately, Qui-Gon regretted his decision to delay meeting with Jaelin. It had struck a nerve. "Whether it is in violation or not, Master Yoda _still_ advised that I seek your counsel. Not his. It suggests that he believes you may know the answers."

Jaelin scoffed. "What answers? I have little to give them. My research has not yielded the fruit that I have so painstakingly tried to cultivate for years. What little I have gained, as previously stated, has been rejected like a piece of rotten muja fruit." He letting a sharp breath, as if he were a large steam engine. Running a hand over his bound, black hair, he reluctantly slid the datapad aside. "However, I am willing to help a friend. What puzzles me most is why you delayed to meet with me until now? As you mentioned previously, it's been a month."

Qui-Gon stared, blank faced. "I have a debilitated Padawan who refuses to speak and a Council that constantly calls on me to meet with them because my answers to their questions aren't good enough."

For a moment, Jaelin said nothing, mulling over Qui-Gon's terse response. He sat behind his desk quietly, slightly unsettled, but made it obvious that he understood Qui-Gon's plight. They both knew that an incident of that scale demanded attention, but the Council wasn't giving any time to seriously focus on it. It was if they were pretending to provide an opportunity to prove himself, but at the same time, were preventing him from doing so. Previous experience showed that nothing he said or did would ever change their opinion of him. He'd forever remain an outcast. A silent member of the Order, muzzled by the Jedi code. Yet, they let him teach, which was just the same as speaking out. Were they afraid of him or afraid of him being right?

Jaelin felt his ears begin to turn red from anger. In an effort to conceal it, he stood abruptly, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. Qui-Gon's eyes followed him curiously as he stomped over to his vast collection of ancient tomes and books. With hands behind his back, he eyed the books thoughtfully. "What about the incident left an impression?"

Qui-Gon summoned his datapad into his hands. "The large tusk in particular." He stared at the image of the yellowed tusk, it's tip stained with blood and innards leaking a vile liquid from the cracks.

Jaelin rested his hand on the spine of an old, leather bound book. "Was security able to image capture the creature on the security cams?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No. Only the screams were recorded along with the flashes from a few explosions."

"I don't believe it is too far out to suggest, but I get the feeling that we are dealing with a demon." Jaelin carefully placed a couple of tomes back onto their shelves.

"Demons are superstitions, Jaelin."

Jaelin looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. "The Sith often created such creatures of darkness to do their bidding. Furthermore, Sentinels were a superstition as well until a few days ago. At this point, it is safe to say that anything is plausible."

The Force sparked with electricity between the two masters, it's tendrils reaching out with irritation. Both men were tired and frustrated. One of them had for years dealt with the pain of being called a delusionist and blasphemer. The other, worn ragged from the constant worry and fear for his Padawan's life. However, both knew that neither would get the rest and results they needed until they put their conflicted feelings aside.

Eventually, Jaelin meandered back to his desk with a small stack of books in his arms. Still tense, he quietly opened each book, skimming their contents only to close them and set them aside. A mixed look of fear and sadness suddenly washed over him. The man had reached the end of his already frayed rope. Each road had led to a dead end, expending his resources till they held no further value. It was painful to watch him sink into despair.

Forlorn, Jaelin carefully opened a small and weathered book. The paper had yellowed with age and crinkled like an over-starched garment. Gold leafing had been delicately applied to the edging of each page and was masterfully sewn into the frayed, leather spine with golden thread. The text within had been carefully handwritten to accommodate the astounding and detailed illustrations that decorated each page, time failing to dim their brilliant colors.

As if stepping he were stepping on glass, Qui-Gon tread into conversation carefully. "Where is it that you procure ancient tomes of this nature?"

Jaelin smiled slightly and the depression in the Force lifted somewhat. His eyes remained focused on the yellowed pages of the tome. "In the most obscure and unexpected places. Illuminated manuscripts are a rare find, so when I found it collecting dust in an old antique shop, I simply had to purchase it." He traced the image of a strange animal with large antlers. "Sadly, I haven't had much time to dedicate research to it."

"You'll find the time. The Force often makes a way." Qui-Gon leaned forward, hands clasped before him. He gestured to the book with his eyes. "Although, if it wasn't going to help us in the future, you wouldn't have purchased it. Or brought it to your desk."

Still uncertain, Jaelin gently closed the tome and slid it aside. However, he misjudged the distance from the edge and slid it too far, sending the ancient tome tumbling over the side of the desk. It hit the floor, pages crunching under it's weight like dry leaves. Cringing, Jaelin bent to retrieve the tome, gripping it by the spine with his thumb and forefinger. He carefully flipped it over to examine it, but paused, eyes wide with either fear or amazement. Qui-Gon couldn't tell.

"Guidance indeed." His voice was hushed. He passed the open book to Qui-Gon's rough hands.

Smoothing the pages gently, Qui-Gon found himself staring face to face with a large drawing of a jet black beast. A flaming red mane of fire burned from it's hairline, down it's throat, and to the small of it's back. Piercing through the blackness, a pair of yellow eyes burned like putrid acid and long, gruesome tusks jutted out from it's bottom jaw. It also donned a large, red crystal, deeply imbedded into it's forehead, decorated with a strange golden headdress. Around the drawing, there were eerily written characters that seemed to quiver as they were read. Each stroke suggested that the author trembled in fear as they wrote. Suddenly filled with strong emotion, Qui-Gon dropped the book as if it were dangerous.

Jaelin stared at him, appalled that he had dropped the ancient tome one more. "What was that, Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon looked at his trembling hands. "I felt sadness and pain….It was as if each distinct character screamed out in agony."

Intrigued, Jaelin put a pair of reading glasses. "The written word is the most powerful weapon known to man. It can protect or destroy depending on how it is used." He paused briefly, his fingers scratching at his chin. "How peculiar."

"What?"

"It appears that some of the text has been translated already. There's some old Aurebesh written in the margins." Jaelin leaned in close to read the text.

" _Consumed by lust and power, the great Master fell. Oh how great his fall was! The gluttonous darkness stole his soul and gave him the power of a beast. His hunger for power, for flesh and blood, never to be quenched. Male and female, adult and child, Padawan and Master, all sacrificed by those of darkness to feed his endless hunger and grant power upon themselves. The Force, once pure and free of darkness has become polluted with hatred and evil. Oh Ganondorf! Friend and brother, how far you have fallen from the light. Now a demon and scourge to the light, cursed with unholy immortality, you are bound to return time and time again for all eternity._ \- Text translated into Aurebesh, courtesy of Master Alyan."

Qui-Gon folded his arms. "I revoke my doubts, Jaelin. It appears that we are dealing with a demon."

Jaelin looked up from behind his glasses, eyes flickering with new flame. "The Force confirmed it huh?" He smirked, knowing exactly what Qui-Gon had felt. "The resemblance of this illustration suggests that the tusk we found belongs to it. Note the curvature and distinct markings. Matches quite nicely." He leaned back, inhaling deeply. "Also the mere mention of Padawan and Master suggests that the tome once belonged to a Jedi. I wonder how it changed hands?"

"The Sith may have stolen it from our archives during the Sith Wars in order to gain power over us."

Jaelin twisted in his chair, popping his back. "It's feasible. Many precious tomes and artifacts have been stolen from us in years past. However, few of them have ever been recovered, but if we did manage to recover them, we'd find that the stolen tomes had been corrupted."

Qui-Gon leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "I take it you've found altered texts then?"

"A few. They're obvious because they reek of the Darkside." Jaelin shivered, remembering a previous encounter. It had not gone over well and resulted in disintegrating the corrupted text. "A simple touch can send a shockwave of darkness into your blood. It took over a fortnight to rid myself of that dark sludge."

"Then what do you make this particular tome?" Qui-Gon raised a brow, remembering how he had dropped the illuminated manuscript when he felt the fear and sadness rush into him like a brisk wind.

Jaelin's eyes brightened. "The pages are saturated with the Light of the Force. I can feel it burn within me, warming my blood. Calling to me. It remains in it's purest form, despite the translations. They were done, as previously mentioned, by a Jedi for those Jedi who spoke Aurebesh."

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. He gestured for Jaelin to hand him the text once more. Gently, he began to turn the pages, searching for more translated text. Page after page of colorful illustrations, his curiosity grew. Some of the pages contained more text than others while others were completely filled with illustrations of unfamiliar creatures, landscapes, and people.

As he turned one page in particular, he was met with brilliant, golden light that reflected from the page. It wasn't blinding, but was brighter than expected. An illustration drawn with white and gold ink shimmered in the soft light, it's golden lines shimmering off the walls of Jaelin's office. It was a drawing of a young woman with long, golden hair and pointed ears. Her head was cocked to the side playfully, her golden eyes beaming with child-like joy. She wore a light, silken dress of pastel green that seemed to gracefully flow with her movements.

Thoughtfully, he glance at the image Obi-Wan had drawn of the Sentinel on Jaelin's desk and compared the two. Both were nearly identical. The only thing missing was the pair of wings from her back. Glancing back at the illustration, he noticed that more text was written in the margins closest to the spine of the book. They were sandwiched between the full page illustration and it's opposite page full of characters. He had to lean in close to read the sandwiched text.

"Did you find another translated passage, Qui-Gon?" Jaelin nearly leapt over his desk with excitement. The sudden reaction made Qui-Gon feel a bit apprehensive at first, but relaxed when Jaelin held his peace. "What does it say?"

" _Why have you left me? My light and my life. Ganondorf has stolen you away from me, leaving me in bitter darkness, cold and alone. The warmth and light of the Force has receded from my body, leaving me weak. I feel inadequate and useless to lead an Order that has barely learned to walk. Now that you are gone, I realize that I leaned on your strength in the Force far too much, never focusing on developing my own strength and now, I lead alone. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten for I shall mourn you all the days of my life._ \- Translated by Master Alyan."

As Qui-Gon read the words aloud, Jaelin nodded his head slowly, his brown eyes failing to hide the excitement he felt. "Why haven't I put more time into this text?"

"Maybe it wasn't time." Qui-Gon lightly touched the gold leaf that adorned the woman's hair. "But I believe that you were meant to purchase it when you did. If you hadn't, maybe the text would have been lost forever."

Jaelin grunted, tapping a pen on his desk. "An excellent point, but still. I wish I had studied it sooner." He glanced at the illustration, the gold leaf reflecting golden light onto his skin. "The wording is flowery, but sounds like an autobiography. A journal, if you will. It's personal and not withdrawn like textbooks and legal documents."

Qui-Gon stood to stretch his long legs and began pacing the room. "It mentioned that they feel inadequate to lead an Order that has barely learned to walk. Could that mean that the author is the founder of the Order?"

"It's likely, but unconfirmed. However, I recall the parable that I discussed in a lecture some time ago. In the parable, it mentions three key people - two men and a woman - who sought to teach others the way of the Force."

Pausing in thought, Qui-Gon hesitated in front of a tall bookshelf, the books nearly spilling from it's over encumbered shelves. "I attended that particular lecture. If I recall, one of the men dabbled in the Darkside and fell, being sealed away." He tapped his chin as he organized his thoughts. "That man must have been this Ganondorf."

Like a little child, Jaelin pounded the palms of his hands on the desk like it was a drum. "Then the woman must have been the Sentinel, Eleniel! She sacrificed herself in order to seal the darkness away. They literally became the Lightside and Darkside of the Force!"

Pausing to pull a book that caught his eye, Qui-Gon lowered his head. "What of the second man?"

"The second man must be the owner of this journal..." He trailed off, eyes widening as he processed this thoughts. "Which would mean that he was a founder." His mouth dropped. "This is _the Founder_ and _Grandmaster's_ journal!" Jaelin looked like he could faint, but didn't. "Qui-Gon…."

Qui-Gon smiled, suppressing a laugh. He looked over his shoulder. Jaelin looked like a little child who had consumed way too much sugar. "It would seem you have your proof, Jaelin. Physical proof."

"By the stars, Qui-Gon. This is what I've been searching for all my life!" Jaelin had become so excited, he could barely breathe. Then just as quickly as it came, his excitement vanished. "But now the question lies with Obi-Wan. Why has Eleniel contacted him?"

Carefully putting books back into their slots to help organize the shelf, Qui-Gon looked up. A feeling of confusion washed over him. Jaelin did have a point. Why was Obi-Wan the only one being contacted. Granted, he himself had seen Eleniel, but she never spoke to him. She must have come to cast out his doubts and fears for Obi-Wan. Seemed logical enough. Afterall, he had thought that Obi-Wan had sustained enough damage to scramble his thoughts. However, after he saw her, he knew that he couldn't doubt what Obi-Wan had said. But why Obi-Wan? Why not Master Yoda?

Closing his tired eyes, he inhaled deeply. He knew that the answers would eventually come, but when would they be answered? A simple glance back at Jaelin made him hope that they would come quickly for Jaelin's sake. The old master paced anxiously about his desk, muttering to himself, making him appear like he'd lost it. It was both a concerning and amusing sight to behold and he couldn't help but smile. While Jaelin was older in years than he, his spirit remained youthful, as spry as a Youngling. He hoped that Jaelin would maintain that youthful energy, but deep down he knew that it, like most things in life, had to end.

Obi-Wan felt his heart beat rapidly, thudding painfully against his sore chest. While the recovery had been painful and difficult, his ribs had successfully mended, but the pain didn't vanish completely. Each of his ribs still screamed out whenever he moved and every breath taken was excruciating. Despite all this, he _had_ to move, even if his body screamed at him not to. He had been in and out of the Healing Halls for a month and couldn't stand being bedridden any longer.

Raising his sapphire blade above his head, Obi-Wan winced as another emerald blade smashed into his, sizzling and crackling. The impact shot a wave of pain down his spine, through his ribs, and down his legs, almost forcing him to kneel. However, he remained firm. He struggled to push the blade away, arms shaking from his opponent's strength. With a shout, he quickly swiped his blade and rolled out of the way. His assailant fell forward, their center of balance disrupted, but they managed to regain their footing. Then whipping around, they swiped for his legs. Lungs burning, Obi-Wan inhaled sharply and he flipped over his opponent, successfully dodging the blade. Nimbly, he landed behind his opponent and swung his blade, aiming for the neck, but halted his attack a few centimeters before it connected with flesh.

Their blades hummed through the dimmed light, both opponents locked in suspension, unwilling to move. Both breathed heavily, listening to their pounding hearts. As rule enforced, the match had ended. Ended with a potential blow to the neck if allowed to connect. Then breaking the silence, his opponent began laughing. Slowly, Obi-Wan removed his blade and smiled back wearily. His opponent turned around, beaming.

"It's been awhile since we last sparred. " Garen laughed, running his hand through his long, chestnut brown hair, sweat dripping from their ends. "You doing alright?"

Obi-Wan had leaned forward, hands on his thighs, and was breathing heavily. He looked up and nodded tiredly. Garen tilted his head, obviously concerned. He put a hand on Obi-Wan's drenched back. Eventually, Obi-Wan caught his breath and waved Garen's hand away. In truth, he hadn't fully recovered from his injures he'd acquired during his encounters with the Sentinel, Eleniel and the Demon Lord, Ganondorf. Pain streaked through his body like bullets ricocheting off the walls and it took all of his strength to hold himself upright. If Madame Chi found out what he was doing, she'd do all she could to make him experience living Hell.

Garen twirled his emerald blade a couple times, admiring it's light. "Ready for another round? Or have you had enough?"

Smirking, Obi-Wan ignited his blade once more. "I'm always ready."

"Ha!" Garen's mocked laughter echoed through the dojo. "Got you talking! That's a good sign."

"A good omen, I suppose." Obi-Wan replied, carefully circling his friend.

Sweat dripped down his back, cooling his burning skin. Obi-Wan exhaled sharply to release a wave of pain from his body. He tightened his grip around his saber and swung it off to his right side, suspending it at a forty-five degree angle. It left him open, but he had strategy behind it.

Garen's feet shifted slightly, distributing his weight more evenly and raised his blade above his head. A greenish hue tinted Garen's brown eyes and skin as it hung before his face, readying to strike. His muscles tensed and drawing power from the Force through the soles of his feet, he leapt forward and swung.

Obi-Wan leaned back, barely dodging the attack, but quickly followed through, swinging for Garen's right side. His blade singed Garen's tunic sleeve, sizzling as it flew by. Elegantly, he stepped to Garen's side and swung once more. Garen leapt back, blade twirling, parrying Obi-Wan's strike. He flipped back a couple more times, avoiding Obi-Wan's continued strikes. With powerful legs, he dashed up the wall of the dojo and flipped over Obi-Wan's head, swiping at him as he flew over. Bending his knees, Obi-Wan ducked to avoid Garen's overhead strike. Pivoting his feet, Obi-Wan rushed forward, saber blazing as Garen landed. Both struck at the same time, the force of the blow vibrating down their arms as their blades collided. Their blades danced as they continued to strike with precision and accuracy, testing each other's strengths and speed.

Eventually, Garen found an opening and struck at Obi-Wan's thigh. Obi-Wan cried out, but managed to roll away before a follow up could be performed. He winced as he stood upright. His left leg tingled from the successful hit and knew immediately that it was definitely going to leave a bruise. Slightly limping, Obi-Wan shifted his stance to accommodate his leg, defensively moving his blade to protect his core.

Deftly, Garen swung his blade, aiming for a small opening by Obi-Wan's shoulder, but it was simply swatted away. Several strikes and parries later, both of them were breathing hard. Slightly frustrated, Garen stepped back and held his blade before him.

"Gotta break defense sometime, Obi-Wan." He flipped a long strand of hair from his face, smiling as he taunted.

Smirking, Obi-Wan cocked his blade and slowly stepped forward. "Just waiting for you to slip."

"Not gonna happen." Garen twirled his blade, his smile broadening.

With that, Obi-Wan lept forward and kicked Garen's knee, causing him to stumble backwards. Grounded, Obi-Wan stepped forward and swung his blade downwards, but Garen rolled out of the way and using the top of his foot, side swiped Obi-Wan.

Gasping, Obi-Wan collapsed to the floor clutching his chest. Seeing this, Garen immediately got to his feet and rushed to Obi-Wan's side. "Sorry, Obi-Wan. I got so caught up that I forgot that your ribs were still healing.."

"It's fine, Garen. Thankfully they didn't break." Obi-Wan hissed through the pain. "You kicked me hard."

Garen ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "Heh, sorry."

"Kenobi!" A voice boomed from across the room. Both of them looked up to see Vokara walking briskly over to them, her boots echoing on the wooden floor. "What in the Nine Hells do you think you're doing?"

His breath shuddered as he painfully climbed to his feet, still clutching his ribs. He briefly glanced at Garen, noticing that he had paled. "Lightsaber exercises, Madame."

She raised a brow. "You do understand that your ribs are still mending?" Her eyes scanned him from head to toe. "One wrong move and you could snap your ribs again. Whatever hit you did a lot of damage."

He dipped his head. "I understand, Madame Chi, but I've been restrained for so long that I thought it wouldn't hurt to do some light matches."

Vokara sighed, rolling her eyes. "Doesn't matter. Even though healing crystals and the Force speed up the healing process, it takes time for the body to fully accept the mend." She paused, looking him over. "And a single glance tells me that you are in serious pain."

Garen shot a worried glance at him, but he ignored it. "I'm fine, Madame Chi."

Unconvinced, lekku still twitching, she folded her arms sternly. "I know my patients better than they know themselves, Kenobi. Pushing yourself beyond what your body can handle will only delay your recovery."

Obi-Wan groaned. He was tired of being treated like this. "Yes, Madame."

She stood quietly for a moment, her blue eyes staring into his. "Very good." Sniffing, she turned slightly. "Just be wise. I don't want you hurt again. Also, it is good to hear your voice again." Her voice and features softened. Slowly, she smiled and turned away, lekku swaying behind her.

Garen glared at him when Vokara had gone. "Seriously, Obi-Wan. You could've told me if you weren't up to another round."

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan forcefully clipped his saber to his belt. "I'm fine, Garen." He grumbled, irritated that he'd been called out.

Garen raised his hands up defensively. "I'm not trying to be a bother, Obi-Wan. I'm just concerned." He looked away, hiding his reddened face. "You don't understand how I felt when I heard that you had….." He trailed off.

Obi-Wan lowered his gaze, knowing full well what Garen was going to say. _That he had died._ His heart began to race, remembering the Dark Man, Ganondorf. The strong, powerful arms, shoving him to the ground and squeezing the life from him. Gasping for air as he struggled to get away, his lungs burned with merciless fire. Eventually, his vision had blurred and his heart began to slow. That's when he knew death was coming. Each beat from his heart came slower and slower until it just….stopped. Then...there was nothing. There was no memory of what happened after that. Just waking up, gasping for air and seeing his Master's concerned face.

"I know, Garen." He whispered.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. The memories were still too fresh, open and oozing like an infected wound. Discussing it only made him panic. Deep down, he knew that he needed to talk about it, but he just couldn't. It already had begun to fester within him and he didn't want to live in fear, but he just didn't feel ready to talk about it yet.

Not yet.

 _Eleniel stood on the balcony above, carefully observing the two young boys. Her wings drooped as she watched Obi-Wan retreat within himself. He was letting fear get the best of him, even after she had warned him. She didn't blame him though. Ganondorf was a demon filled with hate, enough so that even the most resilient Jedi could fall to their knees in fear. Still, she knew Obi-Wan was stronger than the fear he felt. He had it in him, but just hadn't seen how to conquer it._

 _Sighing, she turned away. Obi-Wan had to rely on his strength to overcome. She couldn't mother him like she did her own children, even though she felt compelled to do so, but she knew he had to figure this out on his own. That was also something she foresaw in his future. This experience would only make him stronger, more resilient against the darkness._

 _However, a sly and gentle nudge in the right direction may help him move forward faster._

 _Smiling, she stepped back into view of the dojo below. Obi-Wan and his friend still argued, which made her smile. She inhaled deeply and allowed her form to materialize. Immediately, Obi-Wan felt her presence and turned his attention upwards. It obviously confused his friend because they couldn't see her. Only Obi-Wan could._

 _Obi-Wan's expression told her everything she already knew. He was definitely scared. Scared and in pain. She cocked her head and smiled reassuringly. Slowly, he noticeably relaxed, mind free from tension and fear for but a small moment. A new light flickered in his brilliant blue eyes. That was all she needed to see and with that, she dimmed her presence to him._

 _It saddened her to watch his countenance fall with her disappearance, but she could only allow a simple nudge._

" _It's up to you, Young One. Only you can conquer your fears and fly."_

 _Once more, she turned to leave and vanished into the light._

As daylight waned, bringing on golden twilight, Master Yoda slowly made his way to through the halls of the temple, heading towards the entrance of their sacred home. His thoughts were consumed with uncertainty, but the wall he encased himself with hid that from all who passed him by. He didn't want to cause worry to others who looked to him for strength. The month's recent events caused him to contemplate his beliefs and even question what they taught within the temple. Was his faith waivering?

No.

No it wasn't.

However, with each event, proof of Master Kong's research began to manifest themselves. Upon each seemingly small manifestation, Yoda found himself spiraling into the depths of doubt with each day. A feeling of regret had weighed heavily on him as well. The Council had mocked Jaelin's research and findings, but now….as they slowly came to light, they found that Jaelin's research was not to be taken lightly. Earlier in the month, shortly after Obi-Wan's incidents, they had received a message that only confirmed Jaelin's theories regarding the Jedi Order's origins.

The communication was sent using an ancient frequency and was garbled at best. Despite the quality, they were able to determine that a Master of great importance hailing from the legendary Jedi planet, Hyrule, sought to meet with him. For thousands of years, Hyrule had only been a myth, but now it was becoming painfully clear that it was more than simply just that. With caution, Master Yoda had agreed to arrange a meeting with this Jedi Master a fortnight from when the message was received. Shortly after, a confirmation of this meeting was received. Now he proceeded forward, unsure of what this meeting would bring.

As the determined time approached, Yoda left the Temple's walls behind and entered the cool evening air. A gentle wind rustled his robes as he paused at the top of the stairs, looking down at the city-planet below. He leaned on his gimer stick expectantly, heart racing, unsure of what to expect.

Then in the distance, climbing the stairs, he saw a man. The man was old in years, but seemed unaffected by this. He sported a long, white beard that was braided on either side and adorned with silver rings. His hair was also worn long, but was braided down to the small of his back. From behind bushy eyebrows, a pair of pale blue eyes gleamed. He wore a simple, layered tunic of light green and grey, accompanied by a dark green cloak that was slung over one shoulder and bound by a golden cord and clasp. The hems of his clothing were embroidered with red and gold thread, standing out amidst all the green.

Upon reaching the top, the man bowed deeply before Yoda. "Master Yoda, I presume?" His voice was deep and strong despite his age.

Yoda grunted his response and returned the gesture. "Whose acquaintance do I have?"

The old man smiled from behind his beard. "Consider me a friend rather than an acquaintance. I am Master Herion."

Slowly, Yoda began to make his way towards the entrance once more, his gimer stick clacking against the concrete. "Your journey here, good was it?"

"Despite a couple of delays, all was well." Herion gently glanced down at the small master beside him. "I have looked forward to our meeting." However, Yoda remained silent. "I sense that you are skeptical, Master Yoda."

"Unsure of what to make of our meeting, I am." Yoda grunted, eyes forward.

Herion smiled, seeing through Yoda's wall. "The confliction of one's ideals and beliefs between another's can cause confusion, but there is always a middle ground to meet on." He looked upwards at the spires above. "Just as I stand before you, the Hylian Jedi Order is real. Your Order bears Hylian ancestry whether you see it or not."

"Then changed, we must have." Yoda flatly replied.

"I in no means intend to threaten the Order, Master Yoda. I only desire that we become unified." Herion's expression fell. "Darkness has creeped upon on us, beginning to infiltrate us through the cracks."

Yoda hesitated before entering the doors of the temple. He leaned on his gimer stick expectantly. "A proposal, you have?"

Nodding, Herion bent to one knee to meet Yoda eye to eye. "In a matter of speaking."

"Then explain yourself to the Council, you must."

"I'd be more than willing to oblige you, Master Yoda, but I would ask that all negativity be dismissed in order for a clear mind to be had." Herion knew Yoda didn't trust him. Why should he? To suddenly be contacted by a part of the Jedi Order that was considered a myth up until now. He knew that if he were Yoda's position, he'd feel skeptical as well.

Sighing, Yoda nodded and turned to enter the temple. "A middle ground, find we will."

They strode in silence through the solemn halls. Many masters and padawans regarded them as they walked, often stopping them to greet Master Yoda. With each greeting, Master Yoda graciously delighted them with frank conversation. Some seemed closer to the old master than others, but it was clearly evident that Yoda cared for each one whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Herion knew that the Order under Yoda advised against attachments and he understood the logic behind it. Attachments depending on how they are used and seen can either strengthen or destroy. He distinctly remembered many times where attachments had saved a life, but he'd also seen times where attachments had caused great destruction. However, to completely restrict someone from having attachments was not what he had intended when he had created the Jedi Order. Marriage and families were highly encouraged, but each Jedi had to understand that by being a Jedi, they could lose their life at any time. The spouse of the Jedi especially had to understand and come to terms with this harsh truth. A truth he himself had learned thousands of years ago.

Some Jedi regarded him, but were too perplexed as to who he was to engage in conversation. However, when they did speak to him, he gladly obliged them with light conversation. While he wasn't well versed in Coruscant's Jedi culture, he managed to stay afloat, skittering by on what he knew.

Eventually, after much of their time had been consumed, he and Master Yoda finally reached the High Council Chambers. He watched Yoda hobble over to the center seat in the ring of council members, while he himself, came to stop in the inner circle. Standing before the Council from this perspective was shockingly new to him. He himself had never really experienced it before as he had always been in charge of the Council. Now he understood why many of the Knights and Padawans fidgeted nervously before him. It was quite enlightening.

A dark skinned man with a shaved head had eyed him cautiously ever since he had entered. It was to be expected, but Herion hoped to change that. "Master Herion, we welcome you to our Temple. I am Master Mace Windu, a Master of the Order." His voice was deep and commanding. Certainly not one to be taken lightly. "In light of your communication, you were vague in your request to meet us." He steepled his fingers at his chest. "What is it that brings you here?"

"A mission of great importance." Herion replied simply. He folded his hands within his elongated sleeves. "For many long years, I have desired to reconnect with you, our brothers and sisters in the Force, and unite the Order once more."

Mace glanced at Yoda cautiously, but was silently urged on by the older master. "Uniting us won't be a problem. It is the merge that creates skepticism."

Herion expected a defensive response. "I do not intend to usurp power, Master Windu. Nor do I desire to take away your beliefs. I simply desire to establish relations and restore to you what you've lost. For those who understand their past can protect the future."

Yoda nodded in agreement, which was a first since their meeting. Master Windu's expression remained skeptical. "What is it that you need from us in order to accomplish this mission?"

"A Padawan Learner." That earned him some confused expressions. "A Master so often becomes set in their ways and thus, is unwilling to deviate. However, a Padawan seeks knowledge and learning, which opens their minds."

"Do you intend for it to be an exchange program?" A master with orange skin and blue striped montrals and lekku inquired. She tilted her head curiously.

"I do." He removed his hands from his sleeves. "It will give all of us the opportunity to learn about each other without being intrusive."

"Do you intend to select the Padawan yourself or do we select them for you?" Another master with an elongated head and white topknot asked.

"I'd prefer your selection as you know your Padawans better than I."

Master Windu nodded slowly, his expression softening. He glanced around the room at each council member as if asking for a silent vote. "We see the wisdom in your desire, Master Herion. We agree to grant you your request."

Herion smiled graciously and bowed. "Sincerest of gratitudes, fellow Masters."

"We ask that you have patience in fulfilling your request, Master Herion." Mace leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "A selection will be made after careful study."

"Of course. I'll await your decision."


	5. Chapter 5

***Hey Everyone! Sorry about the lull in posting chapters. Chapter 5 decided to be a difficult child and had to go through several rewrites. I hope you all enjoy! More on the way! :)

 **Chapter 5:**

Morning came far too soon for Qui-Gon. Usually, he could tolerate the lack of sleep for at least a few nights, especially on missions, but upon waking, he felt completely hungover. Drinking wasn't the cause however. It was the result of protracted intellectual studies late into the night on an ancient, translated journal. Staying up that late will never guarantee a lively disposition the following morning.

In Qui-Gon and Jaelin's case, their concentration on the subject matter had been so deeply rooted into the journal that hours had passed before realizing that they had over-extended their curfew. It didn't come as much of a surprise, considering their success, making it quite difficult to postpone their studies. Rather reluctantly, they resolved to continue their research the following morning.

Despite concluding for the night, Qui-Gon found himself unable to sleep, his thoughts consumed by swirling, chaotic thoughts. There were too many unanswered questions. Questions that could unlock the Order's lost history and possibly provide clarity regarding Obi-Wan's unique experience.

While the journal had been translated into Aurebesh by a Jedi Master named Alyan, much of what was written was a mystery due to it's symbolic and flowery language, but there was still quite a bit they did understand as it was familiar. The journal was also devoid of the author's personal history, but certain ticks and redundancy in the writing style indicated personality. A powerful personality that lead them to theorize that the journal had belonged to the Founder of the Order as it detailed the foundation, growth, and teachings of the Order.

The Parable of Three was first and foremost addressed at the beginning, spanning several entries, indicating its importance. It contained the familiar elements from their version, but it had ten times the detail, especially at the end of the parable. One such example was the three knights chosen by Eleniel to protect the Order from Ganondorf - Idhrenniel, Veryan, and Balamaethor. They began what was consistently addressed as _The Cycle._ Were they Sentinels as well? However, the journal didn't indicate that the three were immortal. Instead, it humanized them, reminding the reader that they were mortal and not all powerful Gods. Eleniel, on the other hand, was a different story.

Even though the three chosen were directly linked to Eleniel, Jaelin spent most of his time and focus on the details describing Eleniel. Afterall, it only made sense. His studies had revolved around her for years, so naturally, the Chosen and Ganondorf were merely afterthoughts. Still, Qui-Gon couldn't put Ganondorf from his mind. The man had taken the life of his apprentice and if it hadn't been for Master Vokara, Obi-Wan wouldn't be here today. The near loss made him feel obligated to find out more about the demon, in hopes to find ways to protect against his vicious attacks.

However, he found it difficult to do as Jaelin kept swiping the journal from him every five seconds. After about an hour of passively fighting over the journal, he managed to run off with the journal long enough to quickly scan each page. Finally, with peace restored and armed with a digital copy, he set to sifting through the journal's contents, highlighting passages and bookmarking pages that stood out to him. It was taxing work, creating hundreds of questions, but he knew that if they pushed forward, they'd find what they were looking for.

Stifling a yawn, he paused in front of Jaelin's door and knocked. A few moments passed with no answer, leaving him glancing at this chrono. He knocked again and continued to wait. Maybe Jaelin had slept in? Honestly, he wouldn't blame him. They did stay up for more than half the night. It was something he hoped wouldn't become a habit. At that rate, they'd run themselves ragged.

He rubbed a hand over his face. Despite physical and emotional status, the Force seemed to have a plan for them. Master Yoda had contacted him early to inform him that he and Jaelin were to meet with a notable Jedi Scholar in the Archives that morning. The subject matter - Jaelin's research. Knowing the feelings of the Council, it was certainly an odd request. He glanced up at the ceiling. _Eleniel must have pulled strings_.

Knocking again, he ran a hand over his head. Seconds later, he pressed the buzzer on the control panel. Still no answer came. Curiously, he activated the door and walked into the darkened room as the door slid open. The door hissed shut behind him and a dim light flickered on, sensing movement. Glancing around the room, much to his amusement, he found Jaelin right where he'd left him last night. Slumped over on his desk and snoring like a congested Krait Dragon, was Jaelin.

Smiling broadly, he walked over and gently placed his large hand on Jaelin's shoulder. "Jaelin?"

As if struck by lightning, Jaelin shot upward, arms flailing defensively. This forced Qui-Gon to take a few steps back to avoid getting hit. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" The master shouted at the top of his lungs, breathing heavily.

Hands held up defensively and slightly confused, Qui-Gon carefully stepped around to the front of the desk to avoid being attacked. "Jaelin, it's just me."

Breathing labored, Jaelin put a hand over his racing heart, failing to notice the durasheet clinging to his cheek. "For the love of the Force, Qui-Gon! Don't do that."

Qui-Gon struggled to suppress the laughter he felt building in his throat. He gestured to his cheek, indicating the durasheet to Jaelin. "I'll do my best not to, my friend."

Sheepishly, Jaelin swiftly removed the durasheet that clung to his cheek and crumpled it. In one shot, he threw it into a trash receptacle on the opposite end of the room. He rubbed at the corner of his eye with the tip of his third finger. "I slept here all night, didn't I?"

"It would seem so, Jaelin." Qui-Gon chuckled slightly.

Groaning, Jaelin leaned back and uncharacteristically shut one of his open desk drawers with his foot. "That is certainly off putting." He rubbed his temples. "A brief moment and a painkiller will be required before we get started. I feel like I've been hit in the head with a spiked mace."

Qui-Gon tossed him a packet of painkillers from his belt. With one hand, Jaelin caught the packet and ripped it open, taking the tablets promptly. "Our personal research will need to wait, Jaelin. A meeting with a notable Jedi Scholar has been arranged for us in the archives."

"Arranged by who and with what 'Notable Scholar'?" Jaelin raised a brow skeptically, tossing the packet wrapper away.

"Master Yoda arranged it. As for the Scholar, he failed to mention who, but I assume that they primarily spend their time and study away from the temple."

Jaelin furiously messed with his unruly, black hair that had spawned overnight. "I know each Jedi Scholar personally and know for a fact that none of them would _ever_ want to meet with me thanks to my 'reputation'. They'd rather die than be forced into a room with me." Too tired to make his hair look proper, he just smoothed it back into a ponytail.

"Reputation or not, Jaelin, this Scholar is obviously interested in your study." Qui-Gon calmly replied. "Master Yoda emphasized that."

His countenance softened slightly, but remained guarded. "I suppose the meeting is now?" Jaelin grumbled, glancing at the chrono. Qui-Gon acknowledged the question with a nod. "Give me a moment to collect myself and then we'll go."

Reluctantly, Jaelin stood and began to gather together several books, folders, and data pads containing decades worth of research. As he carefully packed them into his satchel, Qui-Gon sensed his growing discomfort. Having recently come to a better understanding of Jaelin's past, it helped him understand why Jaelin felt the way he did. For years, he had sought diligently to be accepted amongst the Order for his painstaking research, but continued to suffer ridicule and rejection.

At this rate, acceptance wouldn't come any time soon, even with their recent discoveries.

However, it was intriguingly strange that a Jedi Scholar, who spent most of their days studying abroad, was suddenly interested. Especially a notable one, but if Jaelin knew every scholar at the temple, why did he not know who this scholar was? Why would this master be interested now. An obvious answer came to mind. _Eleniel_ had set this up.

Up until now, nothing had been set in stone, but Qui-Gon felt that something was going to happen. Something significant and for the second time that morning, he knew that Eleniel or The Force was pulling the strings in order to bring them to this point. It started with Obi-Wan, then the journal, and now this scholar. What was next?

Abruptly, Jaelin flicked his hand and shut off the lights manually. With his chin, he gestured that he was ready to go. Quietly, Qui-Gon followed closely behind, careful to not incite Jaelin's discomfort further.

An awkward silence fell between them, following them as they walked. Jaelin's discomfort and anxiety rippled through the Force as if the strings on an instrument were played too harshly. He sympathized for him, but hoped that the storm billowing within Jaelin would disperse before the meeting.

When they entered the archives, the began to slowly dissipate, but unfortunately did not disperse. Inconspicuously, he glanced out of the corner of his eye. Jaelin's expression was stoic, but his eyes betrayed him. _Oh dear….._

Quietly, they approached the front desk just as a wisened, white-haired woman exited from the office behind the desk, carrying a stack of data discs. She eyed them austerely with pale blue eyes as she slowly set the discs down. Sniffing inquisitively, she straightened her crisply pressed tunic.

"Starting early this morning, Gentlemen." She quipped, stiffly brushing a wispy strand of white hair behind her ear. "What may I help you with?"

Qui-Gon placed his hands on the smooth, stone desk. "Master Yoda arranged a meeting for us here with a particular Jedi Scholar. Could you direct us?"

Jocasta sniffed and gestured towards an alcove in the back of the archive. "Master Yoda failed to mention who was meeting with Master Herion." Both masters glanced at each other, confused expressions on their faces. That confirmed that Jaelin had no idea who Master Herion was. "He's in the back. Far right alcove." She began to sift through the data discs. "Impossible to miss."

Bowing at the waist, Qui-Gon graciously thanked Jocasta for her assistance. Jaelin awkwardly followed suit and then followed Qui-Gon past the front desk. Almost as if he were a Youngling, he skittered behind Qui-Gon, arms nervously drawn inward. Jocasta's piercing gaze made it obvious that she knew of Jaelin's reputation. Just like the rest of the Jedi Scholars, she turned her nose up at Jaelin's studies.

 _Were all scholars so elitist?_ He thought. Jaelin continued to trail behind him, nervous energy still wafting off of his frame, but at least he seemed distracted. Row after row they passed, each of them almost drawing Jaelin's attention away. It took some effort to keep Jaelin focused on the task at hand, as his mind drawn to the knowledge around them, but he managed.

Nearing the alcove, the Force suddenly swelled like the tides of an ocean. It was so intense that both masters were caught off guard, nearly losing their feet amidst the invisible, swirling currents. Confused, they looked around, trying to determine the source. After a moment of treading the currents, they found that the source emanated from an elderly man with long, pointed ears, sitting quietly in the alcove. He sat among piles of data discs and old tomes on a cushion he had removed from one of the chairs. His elbows were poised on the low sitting coffee table, supporting his thickly, bearded chin as his eyes intently examined the swirling hologram before him.

Jocasta was right. _Definitely_ hard to miss _._

Before Qui-Gon could knock, the old man was alerted to their presence. A warm smile peeked out from behind the white beard. "Masters, come in. I've been waiting for you."

The man's voice was strong and deep, failing to match his aged appearance. Blue eyes glinted from behind small rimmed, bronze spectacles that sat on the tip of his nose. As they entered, he casually pushed the spectacles up and shut off the hologram. He gestured to the cushions on the opposite side of the coffee table. Jaelin warily glanced at Qui-Gon before kneeling on the cushion. Slowly, Qui-Gon followed, folding his long legs beneath himself.

An awkward silence filled the room as the old master looked them over with interest. His pale blue eyes paused on their countenances, as if gazing into their souls. It was unsettling to both masters, but neither of them wanted to disrespect the old master. Maybe it was customary on the planet of his birth to do so.

Eventually, Qui-Gon shrugged off his discomfort and met the old master's warm gaze. "You must be Master Herion."

Herion smiled brightly, eyes flickering with child-like glee. "We are well met, Master Qui-Gon." He bowed his head respectfully, the metal beads in his beard clinking softly. "It is an honor to meet such noble scholars."

Qui-Gon cleared his throat. He hadn't expected to be addressed as a scholar. "No disrespect intended, but I am no scholar. Master Kong is the one you should address as such."

The old master shook his head, chuckling slightly. "We are all scholars in our own respects, for _Life_ is is what makes us scholars, Master Jedi."

Somewhat caught off guard, Qui-Gon simply bowed his head, grateful for the insight. The old master returned the gesture.

"You must wonder why I arranged this meeting." Turning his gaze, he locked eyes with Jaelin. "It is your collaborative research that interests me."

Jaelin coughed, failing to hide his surprise. "Are you certain? My reputation as a scholar is -"

The old master raised his hand, cutting Jaelin off. "The _false_ reputation others have given you means nothing. Don't succumb to their petulant, childish behavior." He paused, allowing Jaelin to absorb his response. "What sets you apart from them is your determination, dignity, and character. Despite their gnashing and ridicule, you have continued your research."

Uncomfortable and unused to such praise, Jaelin sheepishly ran a hand over his head. He'd been expecting the old master to tear apart his research with sharp, jagged words, but instead, he had been complimented. "Thank you, Master Herion. I appreciate your kind words, but unfortunately, despite all my work, my research has not been…..fruitful, so to say." He sighed. "I had hoped that by researching our own history, we would regain what we had lost, as it is clearly evident we have lost much, but just like anything in life, obstacles are encountered."

Herion nodded slowly. "Opposition is the key to growth. A tree must establish it's roots before sprouting forth into the sunlight. Without roots or foundation, it cannot survive against the harsh elements." Gently, he smiled and pushed his spectacles up once more. "The foundation you have built can now be built upon."

Carefully, he withdrew an old, green leather bound book from the satchel beside him and placed it in the center of the table. The book resonated within the Force as if it had been infused with it, emanating it's power. Embossed in the center of the book was a gold-leafed, triangular symbol. It was similar to the one that Jaelin had uncovered on Bardota, but this one was flourished with elegant, swooping wings. As it glistened in the soft light, Jaelin slowly reached out and lightly touched the cover of the tome.

"T-that symbol…." His voice trembled as several emotions rose within his chest. He traced the smooth edges with his forefinger tenderly. Slowly, he looked up with awe. "Where did you find this?"

Carefully, Herion opened the tome and began flipping through it's stiff, glossy pages, admiring each one individually. It had been many years since he had drawn each image, written each character, and sealed it with the Force to preserve it. "One who studies the Order is bound to run into legend." He said this, vaguely speaking of himself. "This is a tome of my compiled studies."

Jaelin eyed the book skeptically. "Where were you able to locate your sources?"

Herion had been fine revealing who he was to Master Yoda, but to these gentlemen, he felt absolutely nervous to do so. He could explain that he was the Founder of the Order and had done all the research on Hyrule, but if they hadn't heard of the ancient home the Jedi, then it would become difficult. Suddenly, his blood warmed with the light of the Force and a familiar presence prompted him on what to say. He smiled, thanking his wife for her input.

"First, you must tell me what you've found. I'll elaborate from there."

The Force wavered with uncertainty, but thankfully Jaelin complied. "I'll discuss the keynotes of my research with you and I'll do my best to avoid…..tangents." He cleared his throat as he pulled out his datapad and activated it's holo mode. "I've focused on the existence of Sentinels, the triangular symbol, and the parable called 'The Tale of Three.' I assume that you are familiar with it?"

"I know it all too well, my friend." He smiled outwardly, but inside, the memory was painful.

"Excellent!" Jaelin exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Makes this easier. Now, for a time, I studied them as separate concepts, but as of late, I've found that they are connected. They converge on one focal point - The Tale of Three. To explain, the woman in the parable upon her death, _literally_ became a spiritual and physical embodiment of the Force. Different cultures and Force Wielders have various names for her, but one of the most common ones is 'Sentinel'."

Herion nodded slowly. So far, Jaelin was spot on. Whatever sources he did have, Eleniel must have provided him with the means to find them. He gestured for Jaelin to continue and with excitement building, he of course obliged.

"Furthermore, Eleniel or the Force, has always been identified with the triangular symbol I found on Bardota….and on the cover of your tome. To say the least, I'm still hazy on it's meaning and it's name, but I believe that it is meant to represent the three beams of light that the Force sent forth as mentioned at the beginning of the parable. Through the light, the Force bestowed power, wisdom, and courage to the land and it's inhabitants."

"The Triforce." Herion blurted out absentmindedly. His ancient heart nearly stopped after he realized what he'd just done. No escaping it now. "The top triangle represents power. The bottom left is wisdom and the bottom right is courage."

Silence filled the small alcove after he finished. Jaelin and Qui-Gon stared curiously at him, confusion and surprise clearly written all over their countenances. After a moment, Jaelin fidgeted to a better sitting position on his cushion.

"The Triforce? In all my years of research, I've never been able to pull a name for that symbol, but you have. How in all the stars did you manage that?"

Gathering strength from within, Herion inhaled and clasped his hands before him on the table. "Gentlemen, I have not been completely transparent with you. I know more than what I am letting on and I apologize. My reasoning behind my secrecy is to prevent mass hysteria, especially since I've seen how your half of the Order operates."

"Our half? What do you mean?" Jaelin's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Thousands of years ago, the Jedi Order was first founded on the Jedi planet, Hyrule by three acolytes. One fell to the Darkside. The other sacrificed themselves for the life of the other who thus remained to lead the Order as Grandmaster. As the Order grew and flourished, so did your Republic and the Grandmaster felt it necessary to send acolytes to the Republic to help keep balance and order. Nearly half of the Hylian Order volunteered for the task. Over time, contact was lost between the two halves and Hyrule faded into mystery and lore as wars and natural disasters slowly erased history piece by piece."

Qui-Gon glanced at the old tome Herion had brought with him. "You speak as if you were there and knew the Founders personally."

Herion sighed, feeling the weight of sadness upon his shoulders. "I was there and I did know each of them."

"Impossible." Jaelin scoffed. "It would suggest that you would be several thousands of years old and last time I checked, _no one_ has a lifespan that long."

The Force rippled with slight annoyance, but Herion contained it. "I have watched generations of acolytes rise into the light or fall into darkness. I have felt their souls pass on into the Force, leaving mortality behind. Friends and family, youngling and knight. Everyone I first established bonds with are gone. Despite being surrounded by new faces and new bonds formed, I stand alone, yearning to enter eternal rest. Yet, the Force sees fit to preserve my life and for what purpose, I know not."

Humbled, Jaelin slowly came to realize who he sat with, jaw dropping. "You're the Founder who remains. Ganondorf fell to darkness and Eleniel rose to become the Force, leaving you behind to lead the Order." Quickly, he withdrew the journal from his satchel. "Which makes you the author of this journal."

He handed the journal respectfully to Herion, bowing his head. Slowly, Herion took the journal and slid his hand over the cover. The old leather was worn and frayed with years, but he intimately knew each groove and embossment on the binding. "Where did you find this?"

Clearing his throat, Jaelin straightened his back as if he were a padawan standing before the Council. "In an old antique shop on the lower levels. It was hidden in an old trunk filled with various items." He paused, fondly remembering the experience. "I felt the pull of the Force, urging me to purchase it, and of course I complied. However, after its purchase, I never gave it a second thought... until now."

Herion smiled slightly, still gazing at his leatherwork on the journal. "It simply may not have been time for you to study it, but it certainly needed to be purchased in that moment." A small chuckle escaped his lips. "It also explains why you know such intricacies."

A moment of silence as both masters watched Herion thumb through his journal. The questions he had last night returned, nagging at the back of Qui-Gon's mind, urging him to inquire of Herion for answers. However, before he could open his mouth, the old master perceptively looked up, as if he heard his thoughts.

"I sense turmoil within you, Master Jinn. What troubles you?"

Qui-Gon exhaled slowly, reaching for the right words. "Is it possible for the Force to be seen?"

Perplexed, but intrigued, Herion nudged his spectacles once more. "It depends. Why do you ask?"

He bit the inside of his cheek anxiously. "My Padawan has seen Eleniel in physical form." Herion's brows raised with surprise, but didn't say anything. "Shortly after, he was attacked twice by Ganondorf."

The Force erupted around them like frothy waves of the ocean caught in a lightning storm. "How does he fare?" The old master's eyes were filled with concern, obviously knowing what being attacked by Ganondorf meant.

"It's been a month since the attacks and he has recovered physically, but remains...scarred by the event. He's constantly filled with anxiety, which is uncharacteristic." Qui-Gon's tongue felt thick in his mouth as he began to realize that he wasn't quite ready to re-hash the harrowing event. Herion remained silent, but expectantly curious, his eyes warmly urging him to continue. He groaned inwardly, regretting his decision to inquire about the event. "He was meditating on his own while I met with the Council. The next thing I knew, his presence in the Force suddenly…. vanished. A few on the Council even felt it. When I found him, he….was gone." He uncomfortably thumbed the edge of the table. "We were able to revive him, but he remained in bad shape. A day later, he somehow managed to have the strength to escape the Healing Halls and then was attacked in the Room of a Thousand Fountains." His voice lowered, trying to hide his discomfort. Even though Jedi were forbidden from forming attachments, he couldn't help but see Obi-Wan as his own son. He cared for the boy and the thought of losing him made his heart ache.

Herion ran a hand through his long, white hair, clearly unsettled. He exhaled slowly. "Because I personally know Ganon, I cannot give words of comfort." A slight grimace came to the old master's face. "Ganon never attacks at random, Qui-Gon. It's always well formulated and with purpose."

"Then why seek Obi-Wan's life?" Jaelin folded his arms, brow furrowed with concern. "He hasn't done anything to threaten him…...Has he?" Briefly, he glanced at Qui-Gon who only shook his head, clearly unsure.

"It's not a matter of 'if' he's done something, but when. As of now, I'm afraid it is too early in Ganon's game to determine if your apprentice is merely the pawn or the target." He sat quietly, eyes closed, searching the Force for an answer. This went on for some time before he lifted his head. "You mentioned that he saw Eleniel?"

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "Yes, right before Ganondorf attacked him."

Mind racing, Herion stared at the green tome he'd brought with him. The Triforce on the cover gleamed brightly, reflecting its golden light on the walls. Each piece spoke to him, resonating in the Force, feeling each of their bearers individually. It seemed only yesterday that Eleniel had begun the Cycle of Three, bestowing Power, Wisdom, and Courage to three worthy Jedi after Ganon had reigned chaos and terror upon Hyrule. _Balamaethor, Idhrenniel,_ and _Veryan -_ the firstlings of the Triforce and his friends. How he missed them all. Each one, long had ago, had passed into the Force, bestowing their mantles onto their posterity.

Presently, two descendants held their respective pieces, but third bearer had been lost due to an untimely death. They and their family were mercilessly slaughtered by Ganon when he had risen once again. Since then, the Triforce had been….unbalanced. He wasn't sure if the pieces of the Triforce could be transferred to others outside of the Cycle's boundaries, but if one worthy enough was found, he could see Eleniel making an exception. It would, after all, restore balance to the Cycle. What had she seen in the boy that impressed her so?

Eventually, he came to the conclusion that it was necessary to see the boy in person. To see what Eleniel saw with his own eyes. He looked up slowly, somberly meeting Qui-Gon's gaze. "Would it be possible for me to meet with your apprentice?"

"Of course." Qui-Gon managed to stammer out, clearly unsure of the request. "I'll tell him to meet us here."

Herion shook his head as he stood up and straightened his thick robes. "No. I'll meet with him _alone_ in the main clearing in the Room of a Thousand Fountains."

Qui-Gon's breath caught. _Why there?_ Obi-Wan hadn't dared set foot in there since the second attempt on his life. Slowly, he bowed his head, complying even though he knew Obi-Wan would protest. "As you wish, Master Herion."

Jaelin rapidly got to his feet when he realized that Herion was leaving. "Can't it wait, Master Herion? We have so much more to discuss."

"I understand, Jaelin, but it is imperative that I meet with the boy. It will help me better understand Ganon's intentions." He paused in the doorway and bowed his head respectively. "We'll continue this evening, Masters."

Jaelin stood awkwardly, a confused look pasted to his face. He watched silently as the old master walked away slowly until he disappeared down one of the shelved aisles. "And there he goes." He picked up his chair cushion and placed it back on it's respective chair. "You just _had_ to bring that up, didn't you? Now because of it, I'm going to be haunted by unanswered questions all day."

Qui-Gon ran a hand over his face, feeling exhausted all over again. "Being dramatic isn't going to help your cause."

"Ha!" Jaelin scoffed. He sat down in the chair behind him and rested his elbows on his knees, smirking. "Drama is often confused with impatience."

Pulling out his comlink, Qui-Gon briefly glanced up at Jaelin. "I suppose rationalization has become a personal hobby." It was more an observation rather than a question.

"Contact that Padawan of yours." Jaelin laughed. "I grow weary of your rebuttals."

Qui-Gon chuckled lightly and punched in Obi-Wan's comm code, quietly hoping that Master Herion would reach Obi-Wan and understand where they could not.

Listening to his own footsteps against the cobbled path, Obi-Wan clutched his arms tightly to his chest, knuckles white from gripping. Fear roiled within him as if he were upon the raging waves of the sea. Battered and beaten by the tall waves, he felt about to drown in the depths of his anxiety. He'd tried to swim, to overcome, but he felt as if he could barely hold his head above water.

Like all beings throughout the galaxy, a Jedi was mortal and subject to emotion. It wasn't something they were exempt from. No one was. They were not immortal by any means. In fact, letting go of fear was something they were all reminded to do each day. To feel the fear, acknowledge it, and then release it as internalizing it would be detrimental. Still, being told to 'just get over it' wasn't helpful. Fear was individual and not everyone will understand why certain fears are felt. But was fear the same as anxiety? In some ways, yes, but it still was fairly different. Fear can go away after time, but anxiety, it nags constantly in the back of the mind. When it finally emerges, it feels like being trapped in a tight room with no exit and no air. It was suffocating.

He'd seen many therapists over the past month, working to help him 'get over' his fear. They never addressed that his fear had evolved into a mental disorder. Didn't even come close to acknowledging it. They only saw the fear and the need for it to be removed.

How could they understand how he felt? They weren't attacked and overpowered by an immortal, dark being and killed by them. The Darkside of the Force had not clogged their veins with black sludge. They never felt the intense power behind the hands that had gripped his neck, cutting off his breath. Their hearts never stopped beating after the struggle to escape had failed. They had _never_ been attacked by a demon.

They could _never_ understand.

No one would.

Fluidly, he picked up a small rock and threw it as far as he could across the forest garden. It cracked against the trunk of a sturdy tree, the sound reverberating off the walls of the vast room. His heartbeat rang in his ears as the frustration built within him, filling his veins with hot anger. The anger was mostly directed at himself for being unable to dispel his fear. He wanted to be free of it, but he just couldn't shake it.

Weakly, he fell to his knees, his body shaking uncontrollably. His fingers gripped his knees tightly as he bowed his head and quietly sobbed to himself. He felt vulnerable, open to the elements that life threw at him with no protection to call his own. Thankfully no one was around to see him pitifully weeping to himself.

As the tears fell, a warm and gentle light illuminated the path beneath him. Wide-eyed and taken off guard, he rolled off the path and skidded down a small incline. Breathing heavily, lightly clutching his still tender ribs, he looked up, watching the soft, golden light. Specks of glittering dust rose from the path, tinkling gently. A moment passed before he realized what it was. It was the River of Light. Carefully, he climbed up the small incline and stood at the edge of the river.

It had been a month since he had last seen it during meditation, so it was odd to see it physically. Closing his eyes, he inhaled, basking in the light of the Force. A feeling of peace entered his mind, washing away his anxiety. For the first time in weeks, he felt no worry. No fear. He opened his eyes and smiled. It was good to see the river again.

Absentmindedly, he began to follow the current, carefully walking along its bank, his steps muffled by the gentle tinkling of the current. Head bowed, eyes focused on his feet, he carefully avoided stepping in the river despite the obstacles he ran into. Boulders and branches, ferns and shrubbery cluttered the edge of the path in spurts. From time to time, he had to go around them to avoid stepping in the river. He did this quickly, fearing that the river would vanish if he took his eyes off of it.

Eventually, the river came to a fork in the path. Mind racing, he paused, trying to decide which path to take. One led to the master he was to meet and the other followed the River of Light. His mind knew where he needed to go, but his heart said otherwise. Looking upwards, he exhaled and took a step forward, continuing to follow the river.

Up ahead, he saw a small clearing amidst a grove of trees, noting that the river flowed towards it. Curiously, he continued, stepping over fallen logs and small rocks. At one point, he'd been so focused on reaching his destination that he nearly took a tumble on a well hidden root that jutted out of the ground. Luckily, he managed to stay on the bank rather than falling into the river.

Pausing to collect himself and brush off the dirt from his tunic, he noticed that the current had suddenly sped up, growing swifter as it drew close to the grove. Warily, he continued to follow the river, hand instinctively reaching for his lightsaber. As soon as he stepped into the grove, the light abruptly rushed forward, as if in hyperspace, and vanished into a small, turquoise pond, dotted by lily pads and volcanic rock. Fears realized, he dashed to the bank of the pond and waited. His heart beat rapidly as the seconds ticked by, eyes still searching for the light, but it never returned. Sighing, he turned to leave, but a deep, gentle voice stopped him in his tracks.

"The beauty of light is difficult to turn from." The voice said from behind him.

Startled, he whipped around, blue eyes searching for the source of the voice. There, dressed in robes of green, gold, and cream, stood an old man with a long, thick white beard and hair. Awkwardly, he bowed. His long Padawan braid slowly slid over his shoulder as his bow deepened. "I'm sorry, Master. I didn't see you there."

The old master chuckled, his pale eyes twinkling in the artificial light. "No need, Young One."

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his hair. "What brings you here?"

"The light, of course." The old master patted Obi-Wan's shoulder and beckoned him to join him on the bank of the pond.

"The light?" Obi-Wan followed curiously, brow raised. For a moment, he just watched the old master, unsure what to think. "What do you mean by that?"

A mischievous half-smile graced master's lips as he sat on a choice spot of grass beside the pond. "The River of Light you were following."

Obi-Wan's heart skipped a few beats as he sat down next to the old master. "You could see it?!"

"I've been able to see it my whole life." The old master looked upwards, seeming to reminisce on fond memories. Slowly, his gaze fell to meet Obi-Wan's. He tilted his head. "You must be Obi-Wan."

The simple gesture was familiar somehow. Obi-Wan bowed his head slightly. "I am, Master."

The mischievous smile returned. He reached his arm behind to grasp Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Then you have a meeting with me."

Surprised, Obi-Wan cleared his throat and tucked his braid behind his ear. "I was under the impression we'd meet in the clearing up ahead."

"I had a feeling you'd stray." He smirked as he pulled back his long, tunic sleeve and held it back with one hand, keeping the hem from touching the ground. Leaning forward, he dropped a few pieces of bread into the water. Within seconds, several fish burst out of the calm water, fighting for their share of food.

Obi-Wan lowered his eyes. "My apologies, Master."

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. "No apology is necessary, Obi-Wan. You've been through much in the past month." Obi-Wan quizzically glanced up, meeting the old master's gaze. "Qui-Gon filled me in."

Hearing that allowed him to relax, his apprehension vanishing. Rehashing the story was not a pastime he enjoyed. "I've explained myself several times, but no one understands." He watched the water continue to writhe with fish as the old master returned to tossing bread pieces into it. "Over and over, they tell me to just release my fear and get over it, but it hasn't been that simple." He drew his knees to his chest, fully aware it was a vulnerable gesture. "I've never felt fear like this."

The old master was silent for a moment, clearly deep in thought. Eventually, the last piece of bread fell into the water and brushing his hands, he met Obi-Wan's gaze. "Climbing a mountain is a difficult task, but it doesn't mean that it can't be overcome. Even an ancient evil." His eyes warmed. "It just takes time."

"I've tried everything." Obi-Wan watched the fish swim away, slowly calming the turbulent water. "I'm at the end of my rope."

He tilted his head once more. "One cannot overcome if they cannot admit what they fear."

Flashbacks of Ganondorf whisked through his mind, sending a shocking chill down his spin. Shaking his head, he tried to dispel the memories, but they continued to haunt him. Resigned, he pulled his knees closer and buried his head in them. His heart screamed inside his chest, feeling the fear and shock build within. He clenched his jaw and with great effort, lifted his head.

"Ganondorf." He blurted out. "I'm afraid of Ganondorf, but no one believes he's real. They all think I just made him up or that he came from an obscure dream."

The old master nodded slowly, seeming to understand. His eyes became distant, pulling inward deep in thought. "He is indeed real and you have good reason to be afraid of him."

Feeling somewhat lighter, Obi-Wan relaxed his grip on his knees. "Have you seen him?"

Slowly, the old master nodded, still distant. "He was once a dear friend before the darkness consumed him."

The response was completely unexpected. "You personally _knew_ him?"

" _Knew_ is a relative term. The man I knew was selfless and compassionate. The man you saw was a man whose hands touched darkness and power." He paused, his eyes lowered. "Power and greed changed him into an unrecognizable beast."

Obi-Wan turned his gaze back to the calm pond, pondering the old master's response. There was something different about this man. His presence in the Force was massively indescribable, making Master Yoda's presence pale in comparison. Who was this man?

Slowly, he turned his attention back to the old master. "Who are you?"

The old master smiled. "My name is Herion. I am one who has walked among the stars since the foundation of the Order."

Stunned, Obi-Wan felt his jaw slightly drop. He fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. "T-the Order? How…?"

"The Force has seen fit to preserve me for all these years for reasons unknown. I have seen family, friends, and even worlds disappear to time." Herion's eyes became distant once more.

Obi-Wan's thoughts raced. Was this man really the Founder of the Jedi Order? If he was, then it would definitely explain his presence in the Force. Then he had a thought. "The Force is Eleniel, right?"

Herion tilted his head. He knew Obi-Wan had seen and spoken with her, but wasn't aware of what they discussed. "She told you that?" Obi-Wan nodded. A smile returned as he fingered an intricate, golden band on his left hand. "She must favor you to show her immortal form to you. That rarely happens. Her usual manifestation is by the Force or by Light."

"Is she the River of Light as well?" Obi-Wan asked, glad to be off the topic of Ganondorf.

"Yes. Her veins or rivers are a representation of her existence in all things throughout the galaxy." Herion continued to finger his ring. "In the beginning, she was mortal, but she sacrificed herself when Ganondorf turned to darkness. She transcended death and became the Spirit of the Force. Many battles were fought against Ganon's minions, leaving the land ravaged and the Order in tatters. We won, but only barely." He sighed. "Ganondorf's power had transformed him into a demon or Spirit of Darkness. Our last resort was to seal him away, but every few hundred years, he becomes strong enough to break the seal himself."

Absentmindedly, Obi-Wan rubbed his ribs. "Break the seal?"

"An ancient Force Seal I placed upon him during our last battle. It was the only thing powerful enough to contain him and yet…..he still escapes."

"What happens when he breaks free?" Obi-Wan swallowed, his heart beating rapidly.

Herion's brows furrowed, pale gaze growing sharp. "Life as we know it will change. Eleniel, however, foresaw the outcomes of his escapes and blessed three Jedi Knights with powers and abilities unknown to man, allowing them to fight against him and mend the seal."

"Considering…" Obi-Wan began. "You sealed Ganondorf away the very first time. Doesn't that make you one of the first chosen?"

"Unofficially, yes, but that was out of my own knowledge. I wasn't told how to seal him away. I had to work and study to figure that out."

"What about Eleniel?"

He ran a hand through his thick, white hair. "Another chosen, I suppose, but she was made greater for her selfless sacrifice."

A moment of silence passed between them. What was supposed to be a therapy session turned into a history lesson, but Obi-Wan honestly didn't mind. He had answers now and that's all he needed. The answers would help him combat his anxiety and overcome it.

He eyed Herion once more, watching him spin the golden band around his finger gingerly. "You were very fond of her, weren't you?"

Herion sighed and nodded. "She was my life."

Slowly, he inched closer to Herion. "She's still with you."

A smile slowly returned. "And always will be. She's with all of us." He gazed at the boy, as if searching for something, but turned away after a moment. "How do you feel?"

Obi-Wan bit his cheek. "Better, now that I know I'm not the only one who has seen Ganondorf. But how will I defend myself against future attacks?"

"The strength of your spirit determines the outcome. Fear only will only make him stronger."

Obi-Wan flinched. Maybe that was the reason why he had been overpowered so quickly. His inability to process the fear and release it had cost him his life, but why had Ganondorf come to kill him?

"He always has his reasons to attack." Herion suddenly said, perceiving Obi-Wan's thoughts. "You are just a piece in his game, but what piece, is yet to be determined. Only time will tell."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi all! Thank you for sticking with me this far! :) I really appreciate your support. I know this chapter is a little shorter than my other ones, but I felt that it was complete. I hope you enjoy it! :)**

 **Chapter 6:**

 _Eleniel smiled as she watched Jaelin pace hastily back and forth at the front of the classroom. His sense of strict discipline kept him from straying from the curriculum, but his body language indicated several hints about where his thoughts really dwelt. He wanted to know more._

 _Since Herion's arrival three days prior, Jaelin had become quite an amusing spectacle. The need to study with Herion had become his highest priority, but his teaching and social obligations barred him from being able to meet as often or as long as he would prefer. Because of this, a vexing and ill-tempered disposition began to take over the once exuberant mentor, leaving him looking like a twitchy and uncultured wild man who drank far too much strong drink._

 _She giggled as she watched Jaelin suddenly become frustrated with the presentation remote in his hand. He pressed remote button rapidly, growing more frustrated as the presentation failed to progress further. Eventually, Jaelin's frustration peaked and she snorted when he began bashing the poor device against the podium. Thankfully, a concerned Padawan walked up and quickly righted the remote. Exasperated, but grateful, Jaelin sincerely gave the Padawan his thanks and resumed his lecture._

 _Poor thing._

 _Still giggling to herself, she glanced over at the bearded man beside her, who remained blissfully unaware of her presence. Arms folded across his chest, he also chuckled to himself quietly. It was good to see him laugh, especially since the past month had been quite….intense._

 _Slowly, her gaze turned. At the back of the classroom, Obi-Wan sat quietly, aloof and away from the rest of his classmates. Because of the unnatural circumstances surrounding his injuries, rumors by way of gossip had risen about him, which only made him retreat further. He now preferred solitude, keeping even his Master and closest friends at arm's length._

 _Her wings shuddered anxiously behind her. The boy wouldn't be able to overcome this alone. That is why she sent Herion. He'd fought Ganon countless times, nearly losing his life in some encounters, but each time managed to push back the darkness and achieve victory. He had felt the same fears, the same sorrow, the same depression that came after each encounter. The very same feelings Obi-Wan felt now. Who else could understand him better?_

 _However, she was pleased with the efforts that Qui-Gon and Jaelin had taken in order to help Obi-Wan cope, but it wasn't enough. They hadn't experienced the darkness like Obi-Wan had, nor had they seen the horrors that came with it, but they actively sought to understand. To help and to comfort. While the Order required each to be compassionate, it seemed to be a concept that was clearly ignored by the Council._

 _She inhaled deeply and mussed with a portion of her long hair for a moment before tossing it over her shoulder. When she looked back at Qui-Gon, she found that his broad smile had vanished. Her eyes fell. His intentions had not just been to support Jaelin in his lectures, but to keep an eye on Obi-Wan._

 _Compassionately, Eleniel delicately reached into his thoughts, hoping to speak peace to his mind. Carefully sliding past his barriers and into his thoughts, she found herself amidst swirling memories, worries, and fears. Each of them pulsated like brilliant stars, standing out from the blues and purples of space. The mind never ceased to amaze her._

 _With hands held close to her chest, palms pressed together, she slowly made her way to the center of Qui-Gon's mind, her footfalls leaving behind prints of light. Barely audible, she chanted the words of an ancient mantra. A mantra used to calm the mind and heart of any unsettled Jedi. Youngling and Master alike, it worked for all._

 _Eventually, the chant became song, swaying gracefully like grass in the wind. Her voice warmed as she sung, encouraging the sun to shine through the darkness, chasing away the fear._

 _Her work complete, she withdrew her consciousness from Qui-Gon's and settled back into reality. Drawing a deep breath, she observed the results of her work. Qui-Gon's demeanor was more relaxed and the air around him felt calm. Storm evaded._

 _Pleased, she inhaled deeply, but soon found herself biting back another bout of laughter when she caught sight of Jaelin. He had finally ceased pacing in his invisible trench he'd dug and was now stiffly gripping the sides of the podium in a desperate attempt to contain himself. Another manifestation of Jaelin's childlike impatience. Thankfully, this was his last lecture for the day._

 _Not long now, Jaelin._

 _Suddenly, the air around her shuddered as if the whole planet had changed its orbit. Then a familiar presence entered the room. Wings rustling, immortal heart beating rapidly, she watched as her beloved husband in life, join Qui-Gon at the back of the room._

 _Obi-Wan took some notice, but quickly turned back to taking notes. Herion bowed his head respectfully, his all-too-familiar smile upon his lips. Momentarily, the two men spoke in hushed tones, careful to not disturb the flow of the lecture. The whispers didn't last long however, as both began chuckling when Jaelin took notice of Herion and stumbled over a loose cord on the floor._

 _Herion obviously wasn't expected._

 _She covered her mouth to contain her laughter. It was no laughing matter as Jaelin could have injured himself, but the reason behind the reaction was fabulous. A few of his students rushed up to help him, but he quickly dismissed them, trying to hold onto what dignity he had._

Jaelin dusted himself off and straightened his robes in an attempt to collect himself. "Master Herion, I wasn't expecting you to attend any of my lectures. I had assumed that the Council had captured most of your attention."

Buzzing with confusion, many students exchanged confused, but curious glances with one another. Blissfully unaware of who Herion was, Jaelin's reaction naturally came as a surprise.

Herion smiled slyly, casually shrugging. "The Council saw fit to release me into the pasture." He glanced at Qui-Gon briefly. "Please don't let my presence interrupt your lecture."

Jaelin's face paled, body visibly stiffening. His reaction was to be expected. The Founder and Grandmaster stood in his classroom, waiting to hear his lecture. A lecture that covered the very teachings he had founded the Order upon.

Gathering his courage, Jaelin inhaled slowly and shakily smoothed down the pages of Herion's ancient, green tome. "To briefly fill you in, Master Herion, we are discussing lesser known Force practices. Some known by written record and some that only exist as theory or myth." He cleared his throat. "In the very ancient days of the Order, Jedi imbued their swords with the Force to strengthen and sharpen the metal blades. This method was also applied to wooden staves and scepters improve their integrity." He stepped away from the tome for a moment. "However, this practice only serves its purpose as an introduction. The main focus is on theorized techniques."

He paused briefly to glance at Herion. A smile of encouragement gave him the strength to continue.

"I theorize that there is much more to this technique than what is known. As a tree is seen above ground, we often forget that there are roots beneath the surface, extending down to great depths. So based upon what we can see, what more could possibly lie beneath in the tree's roots?"

Jaelin left the question open for comment. He had his own theories, but he felt it important to have each Padawan feel able to contribute their thoughts. A young mind often had the capacity to see beyond where an adult mind could not. Not to mention, they were also far more perceptive.

From the back of the room, Obi-Wan raised his hand. He stood, attention slightly turned to Master Herion. "Is Force Imbuement considered a type of seal? In the Tale of Three, it indicates that the Dark Lord was 'sealed' away. What kind of seal would a Jedi be able to create in order to seal such a powerful force away from mankind?"

Unsurprised, Jaelin sighed. The question was expected of the boy, as per recent events, but what confused him was why he was asking it. He thought Master Herion had spoken to him about this. So why ask again? Maybe there was something he didn't understand.

Herion moved. "Master Kong, if I may interject?"

Jaelin let out a sigh of relief. Better to have the Founder answer the question than provide a failed attempt from a 'novice' scholar. "Your insight would be appreciated, Master Herion."

The old master began to descend the ramp to the front of the room. "Knowledge is like a field of grain. We glean from field to field and storing it within our hallowed archives." He pulled his long sleeve back and began to draw with his finger on the holoboard. "As implied, many cultures utilize runes or seals for various reasons such as religion, protection, and strength. The reasoning behind each and also the strength of the caster will determine the seal or rune's strength."

Stepping back, he examined his work. He had decided to draw a couple types of seals or runes that were commonly used on Hyrule. The seals were basic, but could prove difficult to use by the untrained.

"Interesting." Jaelin mused. "I assume that you found these in your studies away from the temple?"

Herion smiled slyly as he pulled a few sheets of paper and calligraphy brushes from his satchel. "Yes." He pulled his sleeve back as he dipped his brush into the black ink and gracefully painted a few characters. "Allow me to demonstrate." Fan in hand, he gently dried the ink and then carefully held it with thumb and forefinger. "Written seals or runes can serve many purposes. The most common use I found is to bind."

He gestured to Jaelin and handed the sheet of paper to him. As soon as his hand made contact, the paper flashed with blue light. Immediately, Jaelin's body grew rigid, as if frozen water had been poured into his veins, effectively freezing him from the inside. Without looking at Jaelin, he began to paint on another blank sheet of paper.

The class sat in stunned silence, staring intently at the now frozen master. Herion continued to paint in silence. No one knew what to do or say. All they could do was to try to comprehend what just happened.

Finished, Herion placed his brush carefully across the top of the stone ink well and then gently fanned his work. "As you can see, contact is key to this particular seal. Once the seal exchanges hands, it's power immediately activates and freezes the subject, body and soul, in an isolated state of time." He waved a hand in front of Jaelin's face, then chuckled to himself. "This technique is commonly utilized by other Force-Wielding societies, dating back thousands of years."

With a smile still on his face, he carefully pried the seal from Jaelin's grip. Immediately, Jaelin stumbled to the floor, trembling weakly from the power of the seal. He shook his head, attempting to clear his vision. "What….happened?"

Herion reached down and helped Jaelin to his feet. He had to steady him with a firm hand in order to keep him standing. "Thank you for volunteering."

Jaelin glanced at the crinkled seal. A strange, blue mist rose from the written characters, indicating that the seal had lost all power. He narrowed his eyes. "Volunteering? A little warning would have been preferred."

Completely ignoring Jaelin's vehement response, Herion pulled two round, medallion-like objects from his satchel. One was stone and the other was wood. "Example two." The class laughed when Jaelin backed away, obviously wary. "Sigils or runestones are also commonly used by Force-Wielders." He removed a short sword from his belt and channeling the Force, he fused one of the runes to it. The short sword's blade flashed blue. "Before Force Imbuement fully developed, runic inscriptions were carved into runestones and then fused with an object or weapon. Once sealed together the integrity is increased ten-fold."

He deftly twirled the short sword in his hand and instantly, blue fire erupted from the metal blade. The rune on the hilt also began to glow softly as the flames continued to flicker above it. A mischievous look crossed the old master's face as he brandished it. Then with god-like speed, he charged Jaelin, blazing sword raised.

Metal and light clashed, sparking and sizzling from impact. Jaelin strained under the weight of Herion's attack, struggling to keep metal from skin. He gritted his teeth and forced Master Herion back a few paces. The old master spun to face him, standing tall, flaming blade held at his side. The old master stood in silence for a moment before deciding to sheath his blade.

Herion held the scabbard before him and slowly sheathed his blade. A soft click indicated that the blade had been secured within. Then, a single motion later, Herion smoothly slid the scabbard between the fabric folds of his belt.

Jaelin cautiously deactivated his blade, but still held it at his side. "Again, Master Herion. Warning."

Cheekily, Herion smiled through his white beard. "Example three."

Groaning, Jaelin slowly retreated to the back of the room for safety. The giggles that followed were contagious and soon the whole room was filled with laughter. As he approached Qui-Gon, he found that sympathy would not be found here as well. He shook his head ruefully in a silent attempt to chastise his friend. It only made the matter worse. Rolling his eyes, Jaelin folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, grumbling to himself.

Attempting to contain his amusement, Herion slowly began to put away the ink basin, brush, and sheets of paper into his satchel. "Distance is not necessary, Master Kong."Jaelin raised a brow, and silent and unconvinced. He had no intention to come back to the front. "Take into consideration the power of these simple seals in conjunction with Kenobi's inquiry. How _powerful_ would a seal have to be in order to seal away a _god_ and prevent them from breaking free?"

A blond-haired padawan raised her hand and stood. Jaelin smirked, surprised that Siri was actually paying attention. "Wouldn't combining both types of seals create an advanced and more powerful seal? I mean, one type binds and the other type strengthens. Based on their logistics, it only makes sense."

"Yes, but while it generates a new, powerful seal, it is not enough to contain a god." Herion's expression sullened, dwelling on memories past. "There must be an equal exchange."

"A life for a life, you mean?" Siri raised a brow and brushed a strand of blond hair from her blue eyes. "Are you saying that in order cast such a seal would take the life of the caster?"

Herion nodded, eyes lowered. "Yes."

 _Eleniel pulled her arms closer to her chest, wings folding behind her. She slid down the wall she leaned against and sat with knees pulled to her chest. Her golden hair and white-gold dress pooled around her like a gleaming pool of water. Tears fell from her ethereal eyes as she cried into her knees._

 _My decision was destiny, she reminded herself. Pre Ordained and chosen by the spirit of the Force._

 _She wept quietly to herself, blocking out the lecture entirely. This is why she didn't show herself to Herion. He still felt remorse and resentment towards her unexpected decision. That day, he'd been unable to stop her. Unable to see what she was about to do…..until it was too late._

A soft chime sounded, signalling the end of class. Padawans gathered their belongings and eagerly rushed towards both Jaelin and Herion for questions and further input. Obi-Wan, however, stayed put, his attention consumed by the drawings and notes he'd taken. Qui-Gon took note and began to walk towards him, but stopped when Siri bounded back up the ramp and put a gentle hand on Obi-Wan's back.

Obi-Wan's smile gave Qui-Gon peace. It was genuine. Not forced as it had been for the past while. Full recovery was _finally_ in sight.

* * *

Master Yoda silently watched as the ancient Master gracefully prepared some tea for the both of them. His motions were fluid, flowing from one to the next like a calm, meandering river. It was an odd demonstration to say the least, but he didn't want to disrespect Herion's customs.

With each fluid motion, the Force fluctuated, rising and falling like the tide. After a time, a golden glow began to emanate from every surface in the room, including the tea. The glow brightened at the peak of each motion - warming the cup, scooping the tea, and whisking it till it foamed. It was truly an enlightening experience.

Upon completion of the demonstration, the golden light began to recede, leaving the room a little dimmer and colder. The tea, however, continued to glow with the golden light, which was comforting. Was this how the Force manifested itself to the naked eye?

Herion shifted on the dais beside him and sipped the steaming tea, eyeing the vast city view that lay before them. Shadows and light danced across his countenance as the constant stream of traffic filled the night sky. His expression was placid, but there was an underlying feeling of sadness. Why?

Yoda contemplated his cup of tea, thoughts drawn inward. He felt like a Youngling in comparison. Acceptance of this fact had been difficult, but the more time he spent with Herion, the less he fought back. Jaelin had been right all these years. They _were_ missing valuable history and while he was a master of what they did know, he was not, by any means, on the same level as Herion.

He still had much to learn.

"This planet has changed greatly since my last visit." Herion suddenly said, his voice thoughtful. Yoda felt his ears perk as he lifted his head, interested. "Instead of vast forests of tall, green trees and prairies full of flowers of gold, purple, and red, I now see towering buildings for miles. A vast, roiling sea of metal instead of seas of crystal turquoise."

Brows raised, Yoda slowly lowered his cup. Another reminder of how ancient Herion was. At times, he had wondered what Coruscant had looked like before civilization came, but had cast it aside to focus on the present. "Undo the damage, we cannot."

Herion exhaled. "Industry over life, I suppose." The steam from his tea fogged his spectacles as he drank from it. "You're fortunate that the planet's heart still beats."

He set aside his tea. "Keeps it alive, the Force does."

"Only just." Herion's eyes wandered back to the skyline. A moment of silence passed. "Has a Padawan been selected?"

"Narrowed down, it is." Yoda replied, picking up his tea once more, enticed by the creamy and bitter vegetable taste. "A decision, we will have soon."

Nodding slowly, Herion folded his arms into his long sleeves. He had replaced his green and gold robes with a simple, cream colored one. A blue half coat also donned his shoulders. "Has it been difficult?"

Reluctant and delayed was a better description. While the Council had agreed to Herion's request, it took some time to accept who Herion was. For generations, they had taught as they always had without really realizing that most of their history and knowledge was missing. Many had suspected it, but didn't feel the need to pursue it further. They were content to teach and abide by what they had. Jaelin was the first to really strike the matter head on.

Several Council meetings later, they could no longer deny what was strongly manifested by the Force. Herion truly _was_ the Founder of the Jedi Order. From then on, they carefully observed and analyzed those they felt would be best suited for Herion's request - to unite the Order once more. The only problem was, they could only select one, which nearly resulted in passively aggressive discussions. Each Council member felt differently, arguing their points about who they thought would be best for the job. Thankfully, after restoring order during one particular meeting, they were able to narrow it down to three Padawans.

Thinking of those three Padawans, he exhaled sharply. "Agree, we cannot."

Herion smiled as he sipped from his tea, clearly understanding Yoda's plight. "Each has a right to their own opinion, but don't let contention cloud your insight. Rely on the Force to guide you in your decision."

Yoda nodded. It was counsel he already knew, but hearing it from a _friend_ brought him comfort. "Guide our efforts, it will. Answer soon, you shall have."

"I have no doubt, Master Yoda." He placed a hand on Yoda's shoulder. "No doubts at all."


	7. Chapter 7

**Two Chapters in a short amount of time! This chapter came so much easier than the last one did. Haha! Please note, there is a character that moves a lot like Reaper does in Overwatch. Keep in mind, I don't play Overwatch, but am well aware of it. I discovered this after I had written the chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reviews are always welcome! :)**

 **Chapter 7:**

Under the cover of the sickly, orange light of the underworld, a shadow moved quickly through the dilapidated streets of the small city beyond Coruscant's Power Grid compound. Raucous laughter filled the streets as the grid workers and drunken dredges alike stumbled haphazardly out of the pubs in the surrounding area. Some seemed unfazed by the strong drinks consumed while others, were not near as fortunate. Slimy puddles of retch covered the streets as if a toxic rain had blasted through the area.

Grimacing beneath their black cowl, the Shadow ignored the stench and splashed through the muck towards a run down pub. It was one of the few businesses down here that actually had an illuminated sign. Upon entering, they were met by a thick and pungent cloud of cigarette smoke only made worse by the dank and humid air. Undeterred, they purposefully strode across the room and slammed down a couple of gold coins on the counter. The scruffy, orange-skinned bartender stood unfazed as he cleaned a couple of scratched glasses.

"What can I get ya?" He grumbled in a grated voice.

The Shadow removed their hood, revealing long black hair and predatory, yellow eyes. "Information."

The bartender set the glasses back on the shelf and wiped their hands on a somewhat soiled rag. "Gonna cost more than that, Stranger." Narrowing their eyes, the Shadow slid three more gold coins on the bar. The bartender gathered the coins in his disfigured, three-fingered hand and bit one of them with his teeth, testing it. Satisfied, he pocketed them. "What sort a information are ya lookin' for, Bright-Eyes?"

"The best route to Level 0." The Shadow replied frankly.

Scoffing, the bartender began to clean a couple more glasses. "No one goes there. Uninhabitable and precarious. Why would you want to set foot in such a death trap?"

"Answer the question, Barkeep." The Shadow placed four more gold coins on the bar.

The bartender hesitated slightly, but gestured with his scruffy chin. "That way. Can't miss the lift. Watch for security. They keep a sharp eye on it."

"That won't be a problem." The Shadow barred his teeth. "I assume the lift will take me all the way?"

"Can't say for sure. All I know is that it goes further than most lifts." A few chairs scraped the hardwood floor, making the bartender anxious. Quickly, he pocketed the other gold pieces and stepped back from the counter. "Might be wise to high-tail it out of here, Stranger."

The Shadow's pointed ears twitched at the sound of blasters cocking. He smiled and slowly reached for his scabbard at his side as a large crowd of greedy men approached him. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Give us the gold, Bright Eyes." A tall, raggedy human male demanded.

Glancing over his shoulder, the Shadow acknowledged the man, but also took the time to look for weaknesses. Clearly, the man had been in quite a few fights. Missing teeth and a broken nose were the first indicators. A prolonged limp on the left leg was another. If a fight broke out, he could dispatch the man quickly.

The man raised his blaster. "Did you not hear me?" He stomped forward and shoved the butt of his blaster into the Shadow's back. "Give us the gold and ya won't get hurt."

Rolling his eyes, the shadow whipped out his short sword and shoved it through the man's jaw and skull. Gagging and choking, the man staggered back, sputtering streams of blood. Eventually, he collapsed, gurgling. The entire pub stood in stunned silence.

Nonchalantly, the Shadow pulled a cloth from his belt and began to clean the blade. Whispers began to culminate throughout the room and slowly, more weapons were raised. He sighed ruefully and twirled his blade, ready for the impending assault.

A large, male Besalisk lumbered towards the front, sharp teeth bared. He brandished two hand blasters and a vibroblade in his hands, muscles pulsing. "Looks like we'll be using force, Barkeep!" He shouted as he raised his blasters.

The bartender quickly ducked behind the counter as a volley of blaster bolts were fired. Swiftly, the Shadow leapt to avoid the bolts and dashed across the room, bolts following close behind him. He skidded on the ball of his foot and using one hand, spun to change directions. The Besalisk charged at him, tossing tables and chairs out of his way using his free limbs. Unfortunately, the mob decided to follow.

Still in motion, the Shadow leapt aside as a sturdy table was chucked his way. Grunting, he slung a pair of sharp, metal stars towards the stampede. He pegged a couple of assailants in the neck and face. Their fall did the rest of the work, causing others to tumble over them like bowling pins.

Grinning, he shifted his stance and drew his blade once more, arms crossed at the wrist. His yellow eyes peered over his wrists, allowing him to watch for an attack. To the left, he spotted movement and flung his sword, which impaled itself deep into an assailant's chest. They let out a curdling scream as they fell to the floor. He rushed for his blade and yanked it free from the dead man's chest. Twisting, he slid under a standing table and with his legs, expertly kicked it into a group of charging men. They fell to the ground sharply, their skulls cracking against the hardwood floor.

Before he could get to his feet, the Besalisk grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him into his chest. The air rushed from his lungs as the crushing weight from the Besalisk's four, muscular arms squeezed him. Adrenaline pumping, he closed his eyes and allowed his body to go limp. Eventually, the Besalisk realized that he no longer moved and presumed him dead. Chuckling with glee, he threw the Shadow to the floor.

Using his senses, he heard the Besalisk laugh and clap his hands together. "Given out, Bright Eyes?" He chuckled from his throat. The rest of the room joined him in laughter. "Reapers taken 'im. The money's ours, Boys!"

He felt a large hand tug at his belt and before the Besalisk could remove his wallet, he rolled over and used the momentum to power his kick. Before the Besalisk could figure out what had happened, he kicked again. The force of his kick activated a knife at the tip of his boot, which effectively rammed into the Besalisk's temple. A few screams and convulsions later, the Besalisk lay dead at his feet.

Slowly, he stood and brushed himself off as if nothing had happened. He eyed the dead Besalisk, his pupils narrowing. "I _am_ the Reaper, Fool."

With that, he retrieved his blade and throwing stars, confident that the mob wouldn't attack him further. He nodded to the bartender, who nervously peeked his head above the counter, and left the pub in a swirl of black robes.

Quickly, he pulled his cowl over his head and struck off into the dim light in the direction the bartender had indicated the lift would be. Rows of abandoned homes lined the street, their weary and decayed facades drooping in agony. A couple of roofs caved as he walked by, the pressure and gravity bearing down upon them like wolves in the night. The only remaining street lights flickered dimly, their last moments upon them.

Eventually, he came to a dead end marked by graffiti and warning signs. Exposed cables and wires sparked haphazardly. It took him a moment to spot the lift as it was well camouflaged by the mass amount of debris and garbage around it. Breathing in musty air, he cleared the debris away from the lift's doors and pressed the call button on the console. It fizzed for a moment, until he hit it with his fist, forcing it to boot up.

Gears whined and screeched from years of neglect as the lift rolled into place. The doors attempted to open, but only managed an inch or two. Exasperated, he rubbed his gloved hands together and ripped the doors open with brute strength.

Before he could even set foot into the lift, a pair of security officers dashed towards him, blasters raised. "Hey! Get out of there!" One of them yelled. They came to a stop a few feet away from the Shadow. "It's off limits."

Defiant, the Shadow stepped into the lift and sliced the controls with their short sword. In an instant, the lift dropped, weighed down by gravity. As he fell, he could hear the officer's angry shouts echo down the shaft. For some reason, it amused him.

Air whistled, alarms blared, and equipment screeched as he careened down the shaft at an alarming rate. It was expected, considering he'd severed the controls, and it ensured that no one could follow him.

A spray of sparks showered down on him as the lights burst from the pressure, plunging him into darkness. Only the light from the level counter told him how far down he had plunged. There were a few more levels to go. He pressed his booted feet against the corners of the lift and stretched his arms out to brace himself.

When the numbers reached double digits, another shrill alarm blared, nearly deafening him. He shook his head and slowly inched his feet up the wall, ready to launch himself out of the lift before it slammed into the pavement. At the last, possible moment, he kicked out of the lift, soaring into the darkness as the lift exploded into a ball of orange and red flames. Debri from the blast shot in all directions, crackling and burning as they fell, smashing into unseen structures.

He rolled to avoid the debri and ducked behind a structure, sheltering his head with his arms. When the explosions stopped, he looked over the lip of his shelter to assess the situation. The smouldering remains had quieted, settling to just calmly consume peacefully. Inhaling, he stood and dusted himself off. His eyes glowed in the darkness, clearly adjusted to the endless, nocturnal state of the lowest level. Honestly, he hadn't expected the lift to take him all the way down to Level 0 considering that it was uninhabitable, but it had.

 _Makes my job much easier._ He thought, rolling his shoulders to release tension.

His ears twitched, hearing the sound of waves. It was quite a surprise considering that the exponential growth of the city had dried up most of the planet's seas. Maybe there was an old and forgotten cistern of sorts. Carefully, he navigated his way through the pocketed and lifeless ground towards the sound. Considering the state of the soil, the planet should have been dead years ago. Yet, it continued to somehow support life far above the surface.

Ancient buildings reduced to ruin and dust lay like scattered corpses on a battlefield. Forgotten and forlorn. Some of the structures looked oddly familiar. A small part of him wanted to stay and examine the ruins, but he quickly extinguished it. He had a job to do.

The sound of waves grew louder as he walked down the ancient street. To his left, his eye caught a glimpse of a faint, glimmering green light. approached a glimmering, green light. A moment or two passed before he determined that it wasn't an illusion. Brows furrowed, he quickened his pace to a light jog. Just like the waves, the light grew as he got closer until he was nearly blinded by the pure light that emanated from the grass and endless ocean before him.

Without the light of the sun, it was strange that such a find could exist far below in the forgotten depths of the planet. Yet, it existed. He crouched to dip his hand into the crystal clear, turquoise water. It shivered at his touch, sensitive to the darkness he emanated. He chuckled. This Force Well was why the planet still lived. How fortunate the sentients above were, spoiled by the mercy the light gave them.

He stepped into the water, churning the clean sand and blue crystals beneath. Each step he took poisoned the water causing it to lash out in pain, desperately trying to protect itself from the darkness. The earth vibrated, groaning and buckling from his touch. Like antibodies, swarms of iridescent creatures rushed at him, trying to rid the water of the putrid sludge that had invaded its purity.

Ignoring the creatures, he reached out with a gloved hand and clawed the deep into the sandy earth. He closed his eyes and felt searched for the skin of the Force Conduit. Finally, he managed to locate it. Taking a deep breath, he dove into the water and tore at the sand until he touched the clear surface of the conduit. Searing pain shot through his body as it recognized him as a parasite. Through the pain, he drew his sword and stabbed it into the vein. Once more, the earth shook, screaming silently in the Force. Golden light bled out of the conduit, gushing into the turquoise water. Smiling, he transformed his body into black smoke and clawed his way into the conduit.

* * *

As the shadowed parasite slithered through it's veins, the planet rumbled, forcing the tall skyscrapers to sway violently. Their supports screeched under the weight of metal and glass as they fought desperately to keep them standing. Blaring sirens and screams of terror filled the air as the sentients scattered like cockroaches to find safety. Traffic also escalated to utter mayhem as many pilots feared that the skyscrapers would collapse at any moment, threatening to crush them.

Another shockwave rocked the planet, snapping pipelines and unleashing a powerful, flash flood of sewage and water. The sheer force and power of the river ripped apart walkways and bridges with sharp teeth and quenched it's insatiable appetite by swallowing all that stood in it's path. Roaring waterfalls formed, spilling the brown, frothy water into the flooded city depths below.

Explosions rocketed through the city as if the planet were being bombarded by enemy missiles in a war zone. Power grids were shorted out and ruptured by the water, belching thick, black smoke. Colorful flames burned hot as a deadly mix of various gases and chemicals were released into the air. Electricity danced across the surface of the rushing water and climbed the sides of buildings, seeking for a place to ground themselves.

In a matter of seconds, Coruscant's Emergency Response personnel were overwhelmed by the sheer mass of chaos and destruction.

* * *

Herion braced himself in a doorway as the temple shook violently. Lights exploded in an array of sparks, plunging the temple into darkness. Red emergency lights managed to flicker on as the backup generator roared to life. Screams from frightened Younglings echoed throughout the halls, instilling a sense of chaos and fear.

Stumbling from the doorway, he managed to grip the railing that overlooked the archives. Shelves tumbled like dominoes, retching their knowledge in every direction. Glass shattered and sirens blared as fires began to consume everything around them. The sprinkling system promptly activated, but cut short due to snapped water lines.

Quickly, Herion leapt from the railing and hit the floor running. Channeling the Force, he gracefully pulled a large, swirling bubble of water from the scattered flood waters and flung it into the air. AS soon as it made contact with the ceiling, it quickly spread across every square inch of the ceiling, glowing with the light of the Force. With a flick of his hand, rain began to fall from the ceiling in a heavy downpour, successfully extinguishing the fires throughout the archives. A few Jedi glanced up, confused by the downpour.

Drenched, but satisfied, Herion carefully made his way over to a young Padawan whose leg was trapped under a heavy shelf. He placed a hand on the boy's head to comfort him while with the other hand, lifted the shelf with the Force. The boy shouted in pain as the pressure was relieved from his leg. With precision, he examined the boy's leg gently. It was fractured in three locations, snapped like a hardened sweet. He tore off the hem of his robe and expertly tied it around a couple of broken pieces of wood to keep the leg straight. It would have to do until the boy could get to a healer.

The earth rumbled once more, disrupting the brief silence. Along the walls, thin cracks grew like weeds. Carnivorous weeds that preceded to consume and then defecate the filtered material upon those around them. In an instant, the ceiling cracked, releasing an enormous barrage of debris. Desperately, Herion lifted the young boy into his arms and clutched him close to his chest as he ran for cover. He barely managed to skid behind an overturned desk as another powerful blast rocked the temple. A wall of thick, acrid smoke roared towards them like a tornado, whipping up dust and debris. The heat from the smoke burned his exposed skin and eyes as it rushed by.

With irritable tears streaming down his cheeks, Herion slowly looked up as the ground beneath them settled. The young boy at his side moaned in pain. Shifting carefully, he leaned the boy against the back of the desk and wiped the dust from his face. He smiled reassuringly before coughing into his sleeve violently.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Is it over?"

Herion cleared his throat and closed his eyes, sensing the state of the planet's surface. It was calm, but for how long. "I'm not sure, Young One." He weakly smiled. "Let's just focus on getting you to a Healer."

Standing slowly, Herion braced himself against the desk, eyes taking in the damage. The Archives lay in complete ruin. He exhaled slowly. At least they were alive.

An odd column of smoke shifted slightly, catching his attention. A chilling sense of dread burrowed its way into his heart. Something was out there. Something dark. Instinctively, he reached for his lightsaber as the feeling grew. His heart pounded in his ears as the silence and tension continued.

He glanced back at the boy and gestured for him to remain quiet. Rocks shifted to his left, skittering across the floor like blocks of ice. White blade activated, his opposite hand held close to his chest, he stepped towards the disturbance. In the darkness, he managed to make out a smoke-like humanoid figure, rising from rubble.

"Who's there?" He called out, lightsaber raised.

A pair of predatory, yellow eyes pierced through the smoke, illuminating the figure's pale skin and long, black hair. Herion's heart stopped when he saw a fused, red gemstone in the center of the figure's forehead.

 _A Shade!_

Guardedly, he stepped backwards, shielding the Padawan from the Shade's eye line. He held his lightsaber in front of him, both hands gripping the hilt. "I know what you are!" He called to the Shade.

The Shade smiled, revealing his pointed canine teeth. His eyes narrowed as he leaned his head back, laughing maniacally. Herion shifted into an archer's stance, rooting his feet to the floor. He waited for an attack, but it never came.

"I know _who_ you are!" The Shade replied, teeth bared, eyes flashing vehemently.

"Why are you here?" He called out, ignoring the remark. It was only natural that the Shade would know who he was.

Licking their blade, the Shade simply smiled. _He had a target!_ Herion shot forward, blade raised. In an instant, the Shade's physical form vanished into a column of smoke. He stumbled forward as his blade cut through thin air. Restoring his balance, he whirled around, searching desperately for the Shade. He barely caught a glimpse of a pair of yellow eyes vanishing into a darkened corridor.

Heart beating rapidly, he deactivated his blade and turned to the boy behind him. The boy's eyes were wide with fear. "I feel cold."

Herion removed his half coat and draped it over the boy's shoulders just as another figure dashed through the darkness towards them. "Master Herion!"

He glanced at the boy, deciding that an explanation wasn't important yet. "Wait here." The boy looked over his shoulder at the Knight rushing towards them and nodded. With that, Herion ignited his lightsaber and dashed off into the darkness.

* * *

Obi-Wan groaned, clutching his side gingerly. His once healed ribs burned with pain once more. He hissed as he managed to get to his feet and brace himself against the wall. Wiping his face, he leaned his head back, hoping that the coolness of the wall would help ease the pain. Lights strobed wildly around him, making his head reel. The sirens didn't help much either as their piercing screams pounded against his skull with a sledge hammer. Streams of water spilled from broken pipelines, slapping against the cold, hard marble floors below.

A cold shiver ran down his spine as a sudden and large spurt of cold water drenched him from above. Dodging the remainder of the stream he shook his head and wiped the water from his eyes. He found himself shouting out as the cold water ran down his back. As his shout echoed, the ground rumbled once more. Heart pounding, he froze, listening for falling debris. Expectedly, the ceiling cracked and rubble from other floors tumbled down with it. Ignoring his protesting ribs, he dashed out of the way and slid behind a safer wall.

The onslaught of debris mixed with the water from the pipes and carried on as if nothing was odd about a raging, directionally challenged river. Waterfall may have been a better description, but the last time he checked, waterfalls didn't constantly have rocks falling with it. At least it drowned out the sirens.

Abruptly, something grabbed his wrist, making him instinctively throw a punch.

"Hey! Calm your jets! It's me!" Vision adjusted, he saw Garen crouching beside him in the dim light. "You ok?"

He nodded painfully as a wave of pain shot through his chest. The sudden, jerky movements were coming back to haunt him now. Carefully, Garen pulled Obi-Wan to his feet and ignited his lightsaber for better light. Obi-Wan staggered forward, nearly collapsing from the pain, but Garen steadied him with one hand. Once stable, they navigated through the damage, trying to ignore the continuous, blaring alarms that shrieked all around them like a dying animal. A sense of dread washed over them as they took it all in. They'd never thought that the Temple could look like it had been through a war zone.

Garen coughed, covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve as the hallway suddenly filled with thick smoke. A grated and harsh cough was muffled beside him. Obi-Wan's ribs must have been broken again. Groaning to himself, he wondered if Obi-Wan was ever going to catch a break. His whole life had been a series of hardships. While there had been good moments, most of the time it just seemed like everything was out to get him.

Over the noise of the alarms, something screeched in the distance. The hair on the back of Garen's neck stood on edge and his skin crawled. He looked at Obi-Wan and could immediately tell that he felt the same way. Something was out there.

Ominously, the power shut off, plunging them into silent darkness. Readying their blades, the air around them chilled. Crackling frost crystals began to spread like weeds, encasing everything they touched. A gust of wind rushed down the hall, forcing them to shut their eyes against the cold.

That's when it struck. A dark, shadowy figure burst from the darkness and tackled Obi-Wan to the ground, striking him in the face. Quickly, Obi-Wan shielded his face, blocking a few more blows until the attacker twisted his wrist and slammed it against the ground. Shouting out, Obi-Wan quickly kneed the figure in the gut and followed through with a double kick to the neck. An inhuman shriek filled the hallway as the assailant smashed through a stone column.

Garen pounded towards him, blade at his side. He skidded to a stop when the hallway splintered behind him, spitting boulders in every direction. Dodging to the side, he barely managed to avoid a large chunk of column thrown his way. It smashed a few meters ahead of him, crushing a power generator and water line. Dropping to the floor, Garen covered his head as the generator exploded, blasting shrapnel and electrified water in every direction.

The hallway erupted into orange and red light as the flames billowed, melting the frost. Obi-Wan barely to leapt behind a fallen column as the flames rushed him like a flash flood. The air around him boiled, scorching exposed skin and clothing.

In the distance, he heard Garen scream. Worriedly, he peeked over the column and saw a dark-haired figure crouching menacingly over Garen. The figure tightly gripped the hilt of a jagged blade they'd perforated Garen's chest with. Desperately, Garen tried to wrench the blade free, but the figure only twisted the blade further into his chest, pressing hard with his body weight. The sound of muscle tearing and bone cracking almost made Obi-Wan want to retch.

Blocking out Garen's agonized screams, Obi-Wan leapt over the column and rammed his shoulder into the attacker, sending him reeling to the floor. Before the attacker could regain their footing, Obi-Wan punched the figure in the jaw and smashed both fists into their temples several times as the attacker reeled. He geared to side kick, but the attacker managed to dodge and lurch forward to elbow his sternum.

Moaning, Garen ripped the blade from his chest and stumbled to his feet. He shakily called his lightsaber to his hand and deftly threw it at the attacker's thigh, providing a slight distraction to allow Obi-Wan to roll away.

Breathing heavily, Obi-Wan got to his feet and ignited his blade. He glanced at Garen who nodded back. In tandem, both charged their attacker in a pincer movement, moving in perfect time with the other. They raised their blades and swung, but only cut through a pillar of smoke. It slunk away quickly, retreating into the darkness. Backs pressed together, they spun, searching for their attacker.

A flash of silver flickered from their left and Garen swung to deflect the spinning object. With his uninjured arm, he shoved Obi-Wan down as another whistled through the air. Whirling, both switched positions and deflected three more, the severed pieces of steel clattering to the floor.

Without warning, their attacker switched tactics, bursting from the smoke and rammed a bladed star into Garen's already open wound. Stifiling a scream, Garen suckerpunched the figure in the nose and ripped the star from his enlarged wound. Obi-Wan followed through with a swift heel kick squarely to the face, sending the figure flying.

Twisting their body, the figure righted themselves, clawing up the smooth marble with a single hand. Smiling wickedly, they forced their nose back into place with an audible crack and barreled forward on the balls of their feet.

Before Obi-Wan could react, the figure throttled Obi-Wan and wrenched him to the ground. The figure twirled a throwing knife in his hand and rammed it through Obi-Wan's shoulder. Another flash of steel punctured his thigh, barely missing an artery. They reached to draw more knives, but abruptly vanished when a large boulder struck him at high velocity. The boulder smashed through the opposite wall, taking the figure with it. Garen wheezed as he lowered his arms, body shaking.

All was quiet except for the gentle crackle of the small fires around them. Obi-Wan inhaled as deeply as he could with twice injured ribs and a cracked sternum. His breath caught as he painfully got to his feet and limped towards Garen. "You all right?"

Garen swallowed, looking about ready to retch and pass out. He looked down at his blood soaked tunic. "I'll manage."

The air suddenly filled with smoke once again, signalling the attacker's return. Heart pounding, Obi-Wan reached for his lightsaber, but not fast enough. A sudden, swift kick to the face sent him careening through a wall. He felt jagged rocks rip into his skin and his skull crack as he landed hard. Vision blurred and blood streaming down his face, he saw a pair of black boots approach him slowly. Numbly, he attempted to right himself, but fell back to the ground, writhing in pain.

Garen attempted to counter attack, but his injuries prevented him from effectively performing the maneuver. The figure simply uppercut Garen with the hilt of his blade and grabbed him by the neck, thrusting him to the ground head first. A loud crack later and Garen fell silent.

Fearfully, Obi-Wan reached out to Garen, feeling for his life force. It dimly flickered in the Force, slowly beginning to fade. Grunting, he made another wobbly attempt to get to his feet. He gripped the hilt of his lightsaber for strength as he slowly rose to his feet.

The figure smiled menacingly, twirling his obsidian blade. "You cannot outrun death, little Jedi. A rabbit may be quick footed, but no matter how many times it escapes, it will be inevitably devoured by the wolf."

Obi-Wan wiped his mouth with his damp sleeve. "Who are you?"

"Who are _you_ , is the proper question." The figure replied, enthusiastically licking his blade. He casually stepped over Garen's still body, yellow eyes flashing. "Why does Ganondorf want you dead so badly?"

Backing up, Obi-Wan felt his blood run cold as the figure pulled another blade from his belt. "You tell me!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, inner frustration boiling over.

The figure chuckled, twirling his blade like a baton as he circled him. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you."

Obi-Wan raised his blade, carefully watching the man's chest for hints of movement. "Odd that you wouldn't know."

The man smirked and dissolved into a cloud of swirling smoke. Anxiously, Obi-Wan shifted defensively, eyes darting around the hall. All was quiet except for the low hum of his lightsaber. Tracking a cloud of smoke in complete darkness was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. His eyes would certainly fail him, but the Force would not. The air moved behind him, suggesting movement. An image flashed in his mind and he quickly flung his blade over his head to block the sudden strike. Grunting under the impact, he spun and lashed out at the man's legs, barely managing to clip the man's thigh.

In retaliation, the man swung wide, forcing Obi-Wan to back bend to avoid the blade. He felt the blade rush by his face, missing him by centimeters. Regaining balance, he back peddled, barely managing to parry an onslaught of swipes and jabs.

Desperate to delay the attacks, Obi-Wan gathered the Force and pushed with his right hand. Unable to retaliate quick enough, the man flew backwards, skidding wildly down the hall. Breathing hard, Obi-Wan rushed forward, blade trailing behind him. Before he could reach him, he saw the man look up and vanish. Next thing he knew, searing white pain surged through his body like melted wax.

Vision blurred, he looked down and saw the man's obsidian blade protruding from his shoulder, centimeters above his heart. Breath caught, he collapsed to his knees. The man leaned close and forced the blade further into his body. He screamed as his collarbone snapped.

"Looks like I missed." The man sneered, baring his teeth. He was obviously joking.

Obi-Wan attempted to throw a punch, but was kicked in the gut and shoved to the ground by the force of the sword. Screaming in pain, Obi-Wan grabbed the blade, blood streaming from his hands as he tried to force the blade out. Then he felt the sting of cold steel against his throat and froze, heart beating fearfully.

A deranged smile crossed the man's lips as he jabbed the blade deeper into his skin. Obi-Wan felt blood begin to trickle down his neck. "Long live the Demon King!" The man whispered into his ear.

He swallowed and waited for death as the man prepared to slit his throat, but it never came. A brilliant shock of white light shot through the air leaving behind a trail of shockwaves in it's wake. The man screamed as he was jerked down the hallway.

Wincing, Obi-Wan sat up slowly and rubbed the back of his head. His vision spun dizzily from the loss of blood and his entire upper body burned. A figure crouched down in front of him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Don't force yourself, Obi-Wan." The figure said gently. "You've done well."

Obi-Wan blinked. "Master Herion?"

Herion hushed him and stood, drawing his lightsaber. He walked purposefully towards the dark man, unwavering."I'll take it from here."

Growling, the man stood and spat at Herion. "My Master intends to destroy you, Old Man!"

"I know of his intents, Shade." Herion replied calmly, blade held firmly at his side. "He's wished it since the beginning." He paused a few meters from the Shade. "Why the boy?"

The Shade grinned. "Why not?"

Unamused, Herion called on the Force and channeled it into his lightsaber while stepping with his right foot. Reasoning with such a demon wouldn't get them anywhere, considering Ganondorf obviously kept his minions uninformed of his plans. He stepped outward with his left foot and dragged the right into place beside it. Holding the side of his left hand close to his chest, he swung his blade.

As if he had cut the fabric of reality, a brilliant cut of turquoise blue hung in the air. Another swing left another line. The Shade's eyes widened, realizing what Herion was about to do. He quickly leapt for the ancient master, obsidian blade raised high. Before blades could connect, Herion finished the rune and slammed the point of his blade into the Shade's chest. Instantly, the Shade vanished into thousands of black and blue shards, leaving nothing behind except for his echoing, angry screams.

Gracefully, Herion ended the Runic Kata and deactivated his lightsaber. For once, he actually looked his age as he turned and approached Garen's body. With careful and nimble fingers, Herion examined Garen. The look on his face later told Obi-Wan what he needed to know. Garen was alive, but only just.

Obi-Wan attempted to get to his feet, but the pressure it put on his chest sent him reeling to the floor in pain. Was this his life now? To recover only to be injured a day or two later. Would he ever truly recover?

He closed his eyes and listened to the water that dripped down from the ceiling. Herion had called his attacker a Shade. Part of him wanted to know what a Shade was, but the other part screamed ignorance. Yet, ignorance on his part had nearly taken his life three times. Why did Ganondorf want him dead?

Why?

Exhaling, he opened his eyes and glanced over at Master Herion. The old master had placed his left hand on Garen's chest and his fourth finger on his forehead. His lips moved, chanting quietly. As he did, a faint and gentle light rose around them like the morning mist. It reminded him of the Golden River he'd seen when he first met Eleniel. Was Herion drawing power from it?

Slowly, Obi-Wan began to ignore the pain and relaxed. His heart rate slowed to a gentle pace, no longer thudding against his ribs and his breathing evened out. He wanted to see the river again and bask in it's healing light. There he could forget the horror and chaos he'd just endured. To forget all the pain and replace it with peace.

He felt a gentle hand on his chest and a finger on his forehead. Was Herion doing the same for him as he had done for Garen? Herion began to hum which slowly evolved into a chant and immediately, a warming sensation began to flow through his body, relieving him of any residual pain. As the chant continued, he felt his consciousness begin to fade. For a moment, he fought against it as questions began to fill his mind once more, but Herion's familiar chant slowly eased him off to sleep.


End file.
